The Trap
by Sonnet Lacewing
Summary: XXWritten long before Deathly Hallows, this story is now not cannonXX Dumbledore defeated the evil wizard Grindelwald in 1945. But to Albus, it is much more than a brief line on a chocolate frog card. It was one of the most painful stories of his life.
1. Chapter 1 Denial

**Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I would live in Scotland, have three children, and never have to worry about where next month's mortgage is coming from. I don't live in Scotland, I have only one child, and I'm chronically broke -- therefore I must not be her. Damn!**

**The TRAP**

"Whatever has happened here tonight, Albus?" Nicholas gasped as he entered the wrecked laboratory. _What indeed, _Albus thought from the corner of his shock-ridden mind where what was left of his inquisitive nature had retreated. _My world has ended_, was all the answer he could have mustered, and yet he could not make his voice work to say it. It would have been tantamount to admitting she was dead, and even now, with her lifeless body cradled in his arms, he couldn't bring himself to admit her state.

Albus brushed a long fingered hand across her lovely face, pushing aside a blond curl that had crept over her brow. In that simple act, a bit of her blood found its way to his finger. He stared at it morosely, rubbing finger and thumb together and wishing he had found something to stay death. She was past the point when even Nicholas' elixir could have helped her. Her soul had departed, leaving only the empty shell to remind him of what had been lost.

Nicholas tripped his way across the pieces of roof that had collapsed to litter the floor, sidestepping a pile of broken beakers and cauldrons. He came to a stop nearby and inhaled sharply before tears began to drip down his cheeks. "Lorelei, no!" he cried. Some part of Albus cursed his old friend for naming her, though it was merely an exclamation of grief. But to Albus it was the end of his ability to deny the obvious. Lorelei was dead and he was to blame. He heard a loud cry of pain and realized it had come from his own mouth, though he had been divided from it, almost as if he was watching himself spiral into sorrow.

Nicholas knelt beside him and slowly pulled Lorelei from his grip. "Come, Albus, you cannot help her now," Nicholas urged. Albus was never sure how it had happened, but somehow Nicholas not only succeeded in taking Lorelei from his arms, he also managed to get Albus to his feet and out of the demolished laboratory so that the scene could be investigated. He last glimpsed his losses as a representative from Magical Law Enforcement covered Lorelei with a wool blanket.

Outside the building, Nicholas spoke to someone briefly while Albus was too absorbed by grief to even care about the exchange. When Nicholas returned, he patted Albus' shoulder once and then apparated, while keeping a tight grip on Albus' arm. It had been ages since anyone had apparated for him and he hoped it would never happen again in his lifetime. He felt the familiar tightening sensation and found himself standing outside of the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade.

Nicholas steered him through the door of the small inn, into the clean and quaint interior. Other than the name, which Albus had always found a little morbid, and the sign outside (a severed boar's head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it) which everyone found disgusting, Albus had always found the small inn charming, despite its checkered past. It had been the rebel headquarters in the 1612 goblin rebellion. The ancient bar had stood then much as it did now, but the current owner was something of a compulsive cleaner and swore that one day soon he'd replace the piece with something modern, all assuming he could find a way around the goblin spell that cemented it to the floor.

Nicholas directed Albus to take a seat at a small table and disappeared again briefly. Albus waited, unable to shake the image of Lorelei's lifeless body from his mind. When Nicholas finally returned, he set a smoking mug in front of Albus. "Drink!" Nicholas ordered. Albus did as he was told, wincing at the bitter pepperup potion. His mind cleared some, but it only served to increase the ache of knowing that Lorelei was gone. He set the mug back on the table and stared at his knuckles. He heard someone take a seat at the table behind them, but he didn't have to turn to know that it was Elijah Huntington, who had recently been assigned to head up the hit wizards who were trying to catch Grindelwald . The auror would have to know the story and Albus would have to relive the events of the last forty-eight hours, though he was uncertain if he would ever completely understand why things had progressed the way they had.

"Did Grindelwald escape?" Elijah asked. It probably was the only part he was interested in.

"In a manner of speaking," Albus replied softly. He fixed a pleading gaze on Nicholas.

"Manners, Elijah," Nicholas chastised. "An ally has fallen." An ally. Oh, but she was much more than that. "Lorelei Figg was killed tonight." It was just like Nicholas to state the most painful facts as if they were nothing more than statistics.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Elijah started impatiently. "But what I need to know is what happened to the most evil wizard of our times!" He emphasized his point by slamming his fist on the table, jarring the mug hard enough to make the remaining pepperup potion jump and slop against the sides.

"He escaped the scene after he killed Lorelei," Albus responded dully. "He disapparated before I could follow."

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Nicholas queried curiously, tilting his head.

Albus tugged his long beard and stared at the mug. "The trap had already been set." It was the ironic fact that had been nagging at the back of his mind. Lorelei had not needed to be there. Grindelwald had set in motion a chain reaction that might spell his ultimate defeat, and yet she had been lost anyway. If the events played out as planned, Grindelwald would finally fall, but at what cost?

Elijah snorted impatiently. "Tell me everything!" Only Elijah could turn three words into this level of demand.

Albus turned and looked back at him miserably. "Perhaps I do not know where to begin."

"Just begin at the beginning," Nicholas advised softly, patting his arm in a reassuring way.

"Ahhh, but then the beginning is much farther back then you might expect," Albus answered.

"I've got no place better to be," Nicholas stated. He gestured to the barkeeper and the man nodded and reached for a clean glass from the tray by the register. Nicholas, of course, knew much of the facts, but Albus understood he was attempting to be supportive.

"Will this trap help us stop Grindelwald?" Elijah demanded gruffly.

"Of course," Albus said.

"Then I'm not leaving until I've heard everything," Elijah informed him stubbornly.

Albus watched as the bar owner set three jars of ale in front of them. Elijah immediately grabbed his and gulped about half. Nicholas pulled one toward himself, but didn't actually drink. Albus stared into his, trying to decide where precisely to begin. But he was distracted by the amber liquid and a memory associated with it – the first time he had seen Lorelei Figg, nearly two years earlier in the very inn in which he sat now. Perhaps that was the best place to start.


	2. Chapter 2 The Beginning

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling. If I was I would give up my day job.

_A/N: Thanks to all reviewers. I'd forgotten how much I love getting these._

_And now…_

**Chapter 2 – The Beginning**

"The day Myrtle Young died had left me unsettled. I have never been convinced of the headmaster's findings. As I have stated on many occasions, I feel the Ministry was remiss in not delving further into the events of that time," Albus started. Elijah snorted; it was his only show of disagreement. Perhaps he feared that Albus would stop his story. Albus could have turned, made eye contact and used legilimency to confirm his suspicions; he knew from experience that Elijah was not an adept occlumens. But Albus didn't turn. Instead he fingered his glass of ale, examining the surface as if it were the pensieve bowl he'd recently purchased, allowing his memory to play like a picture show in his mind's eye. Elijah cleared his throat loudly, probably to urge Albus to pick up his story. Stubbornly, Albus continued to pause and collect his thoughts – a show of power in a way, though hardly necessary. But then, this was as much Lorelei's story as his own -- if only she could tell it herself...

"After Rubeus Hagrid was expelled," he started at last, "I was feeling low. I sent a message to Aberforth, asking him to meet me here, and I came to drown my sorrows, as it were. When I arrived at the Hog's Head that evening, it was a very different scene than what we found tonight." Within his reminiscing, Albus could almost hear the echo of the music rattling from the doorways. Every so often the wizarding world picked up the fashions of the muggle world. In the height of the war, big band music had taken the popular imagination of most of Europe, adopting its most successful acts from across the Atlantic in America. The Wizarding Wireless was suddenly as likely to run muggle music as wizard bands, and, at first, Albus had thought it was the WWN he had heard that night. He could remember being surprised by the live band imitating the Andrews Sisters' "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree". The music had been magically magnified to an almost uncomfortable volume, and the barroom had been spelled to expand nearly three times its size, allowing room for jitterbug dancing. Despite the enlargement, the inn appeared wall to wall with people.

"If my brother ever found his way to Hogsmeade that evening, I never saw him," Albus said. "I found an empty seat at the bar and ordered a tall glass of mulled mead. It was so packed within the bar that moving was difficult. That I should have my elbow knocked just as I lifted my glass to my lips is not surprising; that I should be so captivated by the one who did the knocking _is_ surprising. I looked up into the livliest pair of hazel eyes I'd ever encountered."

Elijah snorted again, this time in amusement at Albus' description of the girl.

"Lorelei," Nicholas supplied unnecessarily.

Albus merely nodded and rolled his glass between both palms. "She was singing at the top of her lungs, off-key of course. Even when she practically landed in my lap, she never missed a phrase, much to the displeasure of my ears." He felt himself smile slightly and allowed his mind to regress in time, going back two full years, before Grindelwald had killed her, before Grindelwald had used her, before Albus Dumbledore had loved her.

"Excuse me," the Albus of the past had said, slightly annoyed as the girl continued to sing.

She merely smiled, poking his nose playfully, singing slightly louder, "Don't hold anyone on your knee, or you're getting the third degree, when you come marching home." The dissonance of her poor pitch seemed to melt into the background as a dimple creased her left cheek. She let her right hand drag across his collar and back to his shoulder, "You're on your own, where there is no phone, and I can't keep tabs on you." She spun, pressing her back to his and shimmying her shoulders against him. "Be fair to me, I guarantee, this is one thing that I'll do." She behaved the way a live lounge singer might, moving herself to the next person at the bar and continuing her suggestive dance, "I won't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but you, till you come marching home." Lounge singer was one career Albus was certain she would never have, such was her lack of vocal talent. Thankfully, the song ended shortly after that and her antics ceased, though she stepped back toward him a little breathless and promptly apologized.

He should have graciously accepted her apology and left it at that, but he found himself flustered, a description Albus could not remember having suffered for decades. He couldn't utter a sound.

"I know you," Lorelei observed in an altogether musical voice he hadn't thought possible just a moment before. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore – did I get them all?" She grinned broadly. "You're deputy headmaster at Hogwarts and one of the most promising wizards in the northern hemisphere. She brushed back a large, blond pincurl and winked.

Albus felt his cheeks flush, he wasn't quite sure why. He was hardly new to flirting, though somehow he'd never mastered it as she had. He stared at her, still unable to come up with anything intelligent to say. Her brow furrowed as she waited. "Somehow I had imagined you better spoken," she remarked. He burst into laughter at the irony and she joined him.

That was Lorelei's way. In seventy years, he had never encountered anyone as full of life as that woman had been. Despite his state of melancholy prior to meeting her, she had pulled him from his introspection, urging him onto the dance floor, where he had made a tremendous fool of himself. He was so enraptured by her laughing eyes, that it had not even occurred to him to mind his two left feet and lack of rhythm. Before long he was winded and feeling the effects of the exertion on a body that had become accustomed to a mostly sedentary existence. He nursed a stitch in his side as he followed Lorelei to a table where her younger sister, Arabella awaited her.

Arabella had been nursing a drink and looked up at him with a shy air. She smiled bashfully at her glowing sister, but when Lorelei had introduced them, Arabella's smiled faded. She turned her expression downward and folded her arms around her chest almost as if she desired to melt into oblivion. "Arabella is a squib," Lorelei whispered, as if that explained everything. Albus supposed that it did, though he was sure that it shouldn't; far too many wizards had become full of themselves and their power, treating muggles and squibs as subhuman. Lorelei seemed to be watching for his reaction, though he wasn't sure why at the time.

Albus smiled, inclining his head politely toward the red-head. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Arabella," he'd told her. Lorelei had beamed at him.

Albus had then taken a seat next to Lorelei, wondering idly who the fourth seat might belong to. A short tumbler of a burgundy spirit was neatly centered in a square linen napkin, waiting for its owner to return and finish it.

The three began to chat. Albus made a valiant attempt at avoiding all things magical, instead asking first where Lorelei had learned to dance so well, and then inviting Arabella into the conversation by inquiring if she were also a dancer and wanna-be Andrews Sister. Arabella had laughed merrily at the notion, admitting her hobbies were of a homelier nature. She liked to crochet and had an affinity for discarded familiars, particularly of the feline variety. Arabella was the more classic beauty of the two sisters, and possessed more of the qualities that a muggle might desire in a wife. She wore her auburn hair in the quad-twist style that muggles called a queue curl, and was dressed in lovely blue robes that seemed to set off her green eyes very well. Nevertheless, it was Lorelei who held Albus spellbound – her bubbly nature becoming an additional attribute as enticing as her exquisite hazel eyes.

He had wondered at the time if it was Arabella's wifely qualities that had drawn her companion's attention, or if she were nothing more than a fragile means to earning the graces of her father, a powerful and influential wizard. Unfortunately, the wizard who accompanied her that evening was such a talented occlumens that Albus was unable to gleen the truth; and he could not expect a straight answer even if he asked the man directly. When Wilhelm Grindelwald returned to his seat, Albus had been very taken aback. He'd heard rumors of the older man's exploits. At the time, he merely hoped they were exaggerated.

"If I had known then where that acquaintance would lead," the present day Albus told Elijah and Nicholas, "perhaps I would have made better choices; but then one's foresight is always dimmed by the knowledge at hand, leaving one's hindsight regretful." He took a long sip of ale as his mind drifted back to Lorelei's lifeless body as he'd held it to himself a short time before. He inhaled sharply and struggled against tears that stung the corners of each eye. So many would never know the sparkle Lorelei possessed, and she would never know how much he wished not to be the survivor.

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	3. Chapter 3 Ten Pin Bowling

_Disclaimer: I didn't do it, officer, honest!_

_A/N: Unlike some people, I don't think Grindelwald was Hitler as you'll see below._

_And now_

_**Chapter 3 – Ten Pin Bowling**_

"Do you mean to say that while Crouch told us you had sought out Grindelwald to help us, it was actually convenience because you had double-dated with him?" Elijah snapped incredulously, rising to his feet.

Albus regarded Elijah cooly. It had happened that way, yes, but not at his own planning. "I am neither responsible for what Bartemius Crouch told you, nor for what you assumed," Albus replied mildly. Crouch was famous for his social climbing; Albus did not doubt that Crouch used his offer to assist the Ministry in stopping Grindelwald as another way to bolster his reputation. Crouch had probably told an intriguing fabrication about a struggle to persuade Albus to help. If anything, it had been the other way around.

"Do not forget what the world was like two years ago, Elijah," Nicholas said. "England had already been at war for most of four years, but the Ministry had never, at that time, made a connection between Adolf Hitler and the magical world. We knew the German Ministry had been obliterated in an unfortunate bombing, and it seemed to be merely coincidence. The magical community was loathe to get involved in what they considered 'muggle posturing'.

Albus shot Nicholas an almost defiant look. "Another Ministry stance I had disagreed with vehemently," Albus added icily. "At my offers to investigate, Crouch had obstructed me at every turn. Whatever story Crouch told after the fact, Elijah, I can assure you that it was probably designed to reflect kindly upon him, leaving the truth somewhere on a lower priority. I had resigned myself to my teaching post and tucked my concerns away, a position I can assure you I will never allow myself to be forced into again."

He and Nicholas exchanged meaningful glances while Elijah shifted uncomfortably. "We had no proof that magic was involved in..." Elijah started to defend.

Albus cut him off. "To anyone capable of independent thought, it was obvious! Hitler is embroiled in a plot of world domination, yes, but he is concurrently destroying his own people. Group by group, he annihilates muggles. Did you really never suspect? Come now, Elijah, I've never take you for such a simpleton."

Elijah glared. "I trusted my head of department. I trusted the Minister of Magic."

"You play chess do you not?" Albus asked in an appeasing tone. Elijah nodded sharply. "How far would you get in attacking your opponent, if during play, you broke your pawns in half, and then destroyed your own knights and castles."

Elijah sucked in a noisy breath, as if he only now realized the weight of what Albus was saying.

"Even Japan saw the opportunity, and that is why they are still attacking the Americans at every turn, taking over the side of the world we are too embroiled to bother with. They can leave Europe to the last; after all, Hitler will see to it that there is no one left to fight," Nicholas explained. "Of course, all of these forces are well used pawns, put into play by Gridelwald and his followers. Hitler may be little more than a puppet, used effectively by Grindelwald. Before England can succeed in stopping him, the puppeteer must be stopped. As he is a wizard, it is up to wizardkind to take care of that."

"It is a fact the Ministry should have seen ages ago. Alas, they were too blinded," Albus continued. He took another sip of his ale.

Elijah nodded resignedly, folding his hands around his drink and casting his eyes to the floor. "So did you go to Crouch right away?" he mumbled.

"No, I did not," Albus answered. "Despite my suspicions at that time, I lacked the necessary proof. Grindelwald is a powerful wizard, and though I investigated cautiously during the conversation, neither Lorelei nor Arabella was aware of Grindelwald's activities. To Arabella, he was merely a suitor, and one of the few wizards she'd encountered who didn't openly oppose dating a squib. We rarely consider the plight of the squibs; they are raised with knowledge of the magical world, and yet we cast them aside, forcing them to live as muggles, though they don't belong in that world either." Elijah looked chastised. "Arabella was young and lonely. She didn't want to be cast out into the muggle world, and yet she could hardly find a place within the magical realm, except that which Lorelei took her into. Ohh, poor Arabella. She does not know she's lost her sister and greatest friend." He swallowed hard again, wondering how to break the news to the younger Figg. She would be devastated.

"Obviously you continued to see Lorelei," Elijah observed cautiously.

Albus nodded. "I'm not entirely sure I would have after that one night, had it not been for her pursuit. There was a great deal to do at Hogwarts, and I was uncomfortable about something I had encountered regarding the heir of slytherin, although – well, I'll reserve judgment for now." Nicholas glanced at him curiously. Albus did not elaborate. He had been unsettled by an exchange with Tom Riddle. At the time, the boy was already very adept at blocking his mind. Albus had asked if Tom had something to share regarding the heir of slytherin and had been unable to read any truth or falsehood in Tom's answer. In the two years since, Tom's behavior had grown even more curious.

"After a week had passed, I was seated at the breakfast table embroiled in a conversation of current events with Horace, when an owl dropped a sparkling invitation on my plate," Albus continued his story. "Lorelei had urged me to dress in my most convincing muggle attire and meet her in London. I very nearly declined, but Horace was relentless, telling me I must take time for myself once in awhile and even promising to oversee Hagrid for the evening."

Albus had donned his one suit – a plum colored tailoring he had imagined to be an exceptional article of clothing. But when he encountered Lorelei at the address she'd asked him to meet her, she had giggled herself into near hysterics. He felt himself smile at the memory, though he had been embarrassed at the time.

"Whatever is the matter?" Albus had asked her.

Lorelei forced herself to stop laughing, only to sputter when she tried to speak and start up again. Ultimately, she'd kissed his cheek in greeting and said, "Your suit will have onlookers staring, but nevermind; you're perfect just as you are."

Only Lorelei had been able to offset him in such a manner. His confidence seemed to dwindle. "Perhaps – perhaps this was a bad idea," he'd started.

"Oh, nonsense. Come! Visit the muggle world with us. It's exciting," she whispered the last part with her eyes dancing. The dimple in her left cheek seemed to have set itself permanently there, and he watched her, feeling a mixture of enchantment and trepidation.

Lorelei led him into the building – a bowling alley – filled with women in day dresses. There were not many men present, and of those who were, most were soldiers in their crisp uniforms, probably on day passes from the army. Arabella awaited her sister's return at one shiny lane. She was seated on a tall chair before one of the lecterns used for scoring.

Looking around, Albus had realized that Arabella and Lorelei had both blended seamlessly among the muggles. He had thought the darkened legs and drawn-on stocking seam was strange, until he noted that all the women were dressed similarly. Arabella's hair was again rolled up in its usual elaborate manner, while Lorelei's hung over one eye. Both women even appeared to have makeup perfectly aligned with that of the muggle world. If he hadn't known better, Albus might have thought they were muggle-born, such was the perfection of their costuming. But their father, Tavish Figg was well known within Britain's magical community. He was both powerful and influential and had actually turned down the chance to be minister of magic, determined to continue his work for Scotland, hoping someday to give it a separate place in history.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," Arabella had greeted. He had never been able to convince her call him Albus. "I was afraid I'd never have reason to run into you again."

He smiled broadly. "My dear, I doubt that will ever happen," he had responded politely, yet somehow, he had meant it.

Lorelei had rewarded him with a broad grin. "Have you ever been bowling before, Albus?" she asked.

"I cannot say that I have. Can you teach me?" Perhaps he should have been nervous. However, he doubted he could be as bad at bowling as he was at dancing the jitterbug, and that experience had not done him in.

"It's not as difficult as it sounds anyway," a voice said behind him. Albus had turned to find Wilhelm Grindelwald once again. "Imagine encountering you twice in the span of a week," the wizard had added.

Albus had shaken his hand, but there was the briefest look of dislike that crossed Grindelwald's face, and that glimpse of it had hung in the air between them throughout the events of the evening.

Albus had discovered he rather liked ten pin bowling. He'd also observed that Lorelei had such a merry nature that she was likely to make the most monotonous task enjoyable. Even at one instance, when she had dropped her ball with a loud clatter, and watched as it made its way to the gutter, she'd laughed so hard that it almost seemed she had won rather than lost spectacularly. Lorelei did not use magic. He was not certain she had even brought her wand. It made the experience authentic in a way and much more entertaining for Albus.

Wilhelm, however, did not share this sentiment. "I don't particularly care for this type of entertainment. Perhaps next time we can attend a gobstones tournament."

Arabella wore an uncomfortable look, knowing squibs were often banned from such affairs.

"Hogwarts is about to have the championship game of quidditch. Why don't you all attend as my guests?" Albus had invited. He wasn't actually sure he wanted Grindelwald along, but he felt sorry for Arabella and found he desperately wanted to see Lorelei again. The championship match at Hogwarts was likely to be a subdued affair. The school had been profoundly effected by the heir of slytherin, and only Headmaster Dippet's determination to make things as normal as possible could have kept the teams practicing anyway.

Arabella had smiled gratefully, and Grindelwald had readily agreed. It was a visit he would come to regret desperately, even though Lorelei rewarded him for the invitation with a look he'd never forget.

After they'd finished their game, Lorelei had walked back with him to the point where he'd apparated to meet her. They held hands like so many of his teenaged pupils did and didn't speak at first. It was she who broke the silence. "You are so very kind to my sister, Albus, thank you."

"I am quite fond of your sister," he admitted.

"Oh?" she cocked an eyebrow and fixed an amused expression on him. "Perhaps I misread your interest."

"Not at all," he replied, feeling as _nervous _as one of his teenaged pupils might. He had begun to think it was the mood of the evening. "I have a great deal of female friends. I could willingly count Arabella among them. Fond as I am, that is the extent of my interest in her."

"And me," Lorelei asked directly, putting him on the spot.

"I have never met a creature like you, and I have already lived a great many years," he'd answered in a surprisingly smooth manner. "You fascinate me."

"I'll settle for that, for now," she'd replied, that dimple again creasing her left cheek.

"Lorelei, dare I ask why your sister is seeing Wilhelm Grindelwald?" he'd queried bravely.

Her brow creased and she seemed to consider the question. "He is not so kind to her as you, is he?" she responded.

"It disturbs me that he appears to regard her plight so little," he added. "A beau should respect her for the strength she has, not exploit her weaknesses to embarrass her."

Lorelei had pulled back and stared a little stunned. "Is that how you see her lack of magic – a weakness?" Anger flashed in her hazel eyes.

"In this instance, yes," Albus had admitted. "Do not misunderstand me, Lorelei, I do not share the prejudices of many of my colleagues. But her lack of magic is a sore point to her; you can see it in the way she responds to wizards. The fact that she has found a way to blend so well within the muggle world, despite all she knows of wizardkind, is admirable. In my opinion, there are positions for squibs within our society, but I am not the one who makes those decisions. I am not blind to the fact that they often live a cruel existence, lacking a world of their own. If Arabella wants to see a gobstone tournament, I will get her in. If she wants to ride a broomstick, I can even help her with that. But if either of you expect me to stand by and watch a man humiliate her regularly, you need to understand that it goes against my definition of friendship."

Lorelei had watched him with her mouth slightly open. She'd touched a nerve in his moral beliefs, and his answer had come out as something of an ideological rant that he was a little embarrassed over. Suddenly she flung her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. "Don't change a single thing," she said, just before she'd pressed her mouth to his – something women, in his experience, just didn't do. He was unfortunately too stunned to return her kiss right away, and before he knew it she was pulling away. "I must get back to Arabella. I don't really trust him either." With that, she'd scampered away into the night, leaving Albus Dumbledore to feel like a foolish boy without much notion of women; such was a facet of his personality he'd never considered before.

The present Albus had left out some of the details of the date in his story. They weren't actually necessary, but they were nice memories – and part of all that remained of his beloved Lorelei.

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	4. Chapter 4 An Evil Wizard Visits Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, 'nough said._

_**Chapter 4 – An Evil Wizard Visits Hogwarts**_

"So you began to suspect Grindelwald was up to something?" Elijah said, his brow crinkling. He ran a hand through his thinning black hair.

"Indeed," Albus admitted, inclining his head in a half nod. "I try not to be a suspicious man by nature, but I could not see a reason for his pursuit of Arabella, and that, in combination with the rumors I'd heard of him, my suspicions with regard to the world in general, and a sudden desire never to see either of the Figg girls come to any harm..." he halted, feeling the swell of loss again. He pulled out his kerchief and dabbed at his eyes without apology.

Nicholas patted his back, "There, there, Albus." The added look of sympathy made Albus suddenly angry at his oldest friend. They were all close. Nicholas' wife, Perenelle and Lorelei had become dear friends, trading recipes for both foods and potions, and shopping together quite often. Albus knew that Lorelei would have cried a deluge at learning of either of the couple's death, and the fact that Nicholas' grief had been limited to one brief outburst more than an hour before, was starting to wear on his normally endless patience.

"Did they all come to the quidditch match?" Elijah prompted.

"Oh yes, they most certainly did. It was a regretful happening and the last time Grindelwald and I would 'double-date', as you called it, though not the last time our connections to the Figg women would find us in the same location." Albus traced the edge of his glass with a long finger.

"The quidditch match pitted Slytherin against Ravenclaw, and both teams were impressive," Albus recalled. "The stands were quite empty for that event as more than a few of the students had been rushed home by their families. The threat from the chamber of secrets and the death of dear Myrtle had weighed heavily upon the muggle born students, effectively frightening many away, which was saying something as many of them went home to air raids and the constant threat of war. A few more students left in protest because Rubeus Hagrid was to stay at the grounds, though not as a student. I daresay I thought the prospect of a match was somewhat ludicrous under those circumstances, but it was not my decision."

In his memory, Albus could picture exactly the reaction of all three guests to the famous school. Grindelwald had attended a German school, and Arabella had never been invited to Hogwarts, even to see her sister graduate. Though it had been the place Lorelei had studied, it was before Albus had come to work there, and much had changed since her years. Very few of the professors had remained from those who had taught her. Also, she seemed to see it anew from her sister's eyes.

The match had been a hard fought battle that lasted over three hours. In that time, both Ravenclaw beaters were severely injured, and yet they had only lost the match by ten points. Despite their loss, the point spread was such that they won the cup anyway --a fact that had spawned a great deal of discontent from the Slytherins. The two sides had very nearly come to blows before the staff was able to get control of the situation. Albus had rushed to help and then apologized profusely to his guests as he rejoined them. Then they couldn't help but recount the match in excited tones.

"I cannot believe he caught that tiny snitch before falling from his broom!" Arabella had gasped, as the four walked back from the quidditch pitch toward the castle.

"Thank goodness you are quick with your wand, Albus, or the boy might have fallen to his death," Lorelei had added, keeping stride with him and watching him with admiring eyes.

"Yes, but can't interference of any type be considered a foul?" Wilhelm Grindelwald had argued.

Albus stopped and turned to the foreign wizard with a curious gaze. "I merely slowed his fall so he wouldn't break his neck," Albus had responded. "Katherine tends to frown on being asked to resurrect the dead." He tried to sound as if he were joking, though he was pretty certain the school nurse would lose all respect for him if he could stop a death and failed to do so. Lorelei sniggered under her breath, her shoulders shaking slightly, though she never made a sound loud enough for Wilhelm to hear.

Albus gave them a tour of the facility, stopping first to introduce them to the headmaster properly. He had notified Professor Dippet of his invitation beforehand and had briefly introduced the group prior to the match, but the lengthier meeting took place in Dippet's office.

Dippet had greeted all politely, asking each a little about themselves. Poor Arabella had looked completely mortified by the questions and had shrunk into the chintz armchair that Albus had conjured for her to sit in. "Dear Arabella is a bit bashful, Headmaster," Albus had supplied. "However, I understand her shy demeanor mysteriously disappears on stage, and we have therefore become determined to persuade her to offer her talents to the Hogsmeade Players. I had opportunity to see their recent production of "Midsummer Night's Dream" and it was most dreadful. They definitely need someone to show them how it's done." He winked at Arabella and she flushed with pleasure, smiling ever so slightly. Lorelei mouthed the words, "Thank you," and smiled beautifully where only Albus could see.

It had gone over magnificently until Wilhelm interjected, "Arabella would not do a ministry task such as that which Lorelei or myself might do, Professor. She is a squib." Dippet's gaze locked on Arabella, and though he said nothing, she seemed to shrink again under his gaze. Lorelei's eyes flashed with anger and Albus turned an apologetic face to Arabella, sure now that he probably should have prepared Armando Dippet in advance so that she could not be so humiliated.

"If it is alright, Headmaster, I'd like to finish my guests' tour and see them off. It would not be right to keep them out too late," Albus had said.

From there on the tour had seemed to spiral downward. Willhelm's insults were well-veiled, but kept coming, leaving Arabella further and further downtrodden. When they reached the Slytherin corridor, Albus took the opportunity to introduce the group to his friend Horace, who was the head of house for the slytherins. Horace Slughorn liked to collect influential friends and Dumbledore knew he would find Grindelwald fascinating. When Horace inevitably struck up a conversation with Wilhelm, Albus took the opportunity to separate the parties, claiming he had wanted to show Lorelei and her sister around his own office and asking Horace if he would be so kind as to lead Wilhelm back when they had finished their chat. Horace had readily agreed, never suspecting that he'd been put upon.

"Forgive me," Albus had flirted lightly as he led the two women into his office, "I could not miss the opportunity of having two such lovely ladies all to myself for a while." Arabella, who had been looking utterly miserable, suddenly giggled slightly and covered her mouth with her hand as she blushed.

"You are very sweet, Albus," Lorelei had responded. She then turned flashing eyes on her sister. "If you don't lose that twit you've been seeing soon, it's going to drive me stark raving mad!"

Both Arabella and Albus were taken aback. He had thought for a moment that Arabella might cry. "Oh, he is dreadful, isn't he?" she burst suddenly and dropped into a chair in a defeated manner.

"I haven't wanted so much to transfigure someone into a toad in years!" Lorelei replied.

That was very nearly too much for Albus who began to laugh heartily. "Dear me, I had feared I was the only one," he admitted through guffaws. The three of them laughed until tears ran, Albus' own amusement bolstered by the mental image of Wilhelm the toad, madly hopping down the corridor in an effort to escape, only to be summoned repeatedly by Lorelei's wand-work.

But for Arabella, the laughter was short lived. She sighed once loudly and fidgeted, turning twice to watch the door. "Father likes him," she stated finally. "I'm afraid I may be stuck with him."

"You are hardly a child, Arabella, and needn't do _everything_ Father says," Lorelei chided.

"Perhaps that is true for you. You are a witch and the pride of the family, but I've never so much as transfigured a teabag. Between you and our brothers, there is enough magic to impress the minister himself. Then there is me – the disappointment. If I could make a powerful match, I might be accepted," Arabella argued.

Albus watched her sympathetically. "Surely there must be another wizard who will treat you with more respect, Arabella," Albus countered.

She smiled and shook her head sadly. "Not in twenty five years," she remarked.

It was then that Horace and Wilhelm knocked at the door. "Forgive me, Albus," Wilhelm said with a tone that wasn't quite as polite as the words suggested, "but I really need to take Arabella home. I have an early meeting with the Minister of Magic tomorrow."

"Of course," he replied, before offering his fire so they might travel by flu powder, a much quicker choice than walking outside the special protections on the castle and grounds where they had to go to apparate freely.

They bid a quick farewell, Lorelei kissing Albus' cheek briefly before departing with her sister and beau. "Beautiful girl, Albus," Horace had teased with an eyebrow cocked. "She and her sister keep interesting company. A few of the boys stopped by and they seemed to hit it off well with Wilhelm Grindelwald. He might have holiday jobs for a couple of them, organizing the remaining records that Wilhelm retrieved from the destroyed German Ministry."

Albus had not known at the time why that prospect so disturbed him. He had even chided himself for assuming that Grindelwald's disregard for Arabella's feelings would translate to mistreatment of his students. Somehow he had been unable to convince himself to stop worrying.

"Within a week," the present day Albus told Elijah and Nicholas, "I made my first visit to Bartemius Crouch, who was then simply Assistant Head of Magical Law Enforcement. That first visit was merely to feel him out and see if he had investigated any of the rumors regarding Grindelwald. I was told in no uncertain terms that Grindelwald had the Minister of Magic's full confidence and that he was beyond reproach. I was strongly advised to cease any questioning of his character."

Elijah looked stunned.

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	5. Chapter 5 Dinner Party

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not me!

**Chapter 5 – Dinner Party**

"Did a few of your students go to work for Grindelwald?" Elijah asked. He'd finally pulled his chair to the same table as the other two were seated at. Albus took that as a sign that Elijah finally understood they were on the same side -- a realization that had taken the younger man far too long to reach in Albus' opinion, though he did not remark at all.

"Obviously," Nicholas answered for him. "Some of the earliest witnesses for the ministry came out of the class of '43."

"I knew that two were quite young, but I guess I had not realized they were _that _young. The McGonagall girl always seems much older. She also has a way of making me feel like a petulant little boy," Elijah remarked. Nicholas laughed.

"Yes, Minerva had the most unfortunate luck of having been drawn into Grindelwald's office. Minerva was a very promising student and could probably have worked in any department within the ministry if only she'd asked for a recommendation from myself or practically any other teacher. She was determined to make her own way though. It was she who put together what she was witnessing first, mind you – always her mind is processing. I doubt she will be so easily fooled again," Albus commented. Minerva McGonagall was all that he'd said. He could imagine her as headmaster at Hogwarts in the distant future, if not the Minister of Magic. To date she was the only student who had ever beaten him at chess.

"Minerva had overheard several of the Slytherins in her graduating year talking about the offer that Grindelwald had made. She dispatched an owl asking if he might still be seeking workers and for information on the application procedure. Horace Slughorn provided references for several students, and I believe that turned out to be the extent of the process," Albus said.

"Minerva, along with Howard Dawlish, Darren Carpenter, Nathan Madson, and Gregory Smith all went to work for the man during the summer holidays and each of them were hopeful that it would help them build working connections with the ministry. Only Carpenter and Smith continued to work with Grindelwald after two month's time, and some say the boys were brainwashed," Nicholas revealed.

"Hold on," Elijah interrupted. "Did you say two months? We only interviewed these witnesses a few weeks ago."

"Ahh, he's catching on," Nicholas stated, nodding slowly. Had this been a normal evening, that would have made Albus laugh. But perched precariously as he was between coping and collapsing in grief, he could not find even an echo of his usual sense of humor. Albus watched comprehension dawn on Elijah and he wrung his hands as if he didn't quite know what to do now that his perfectly ordered world had been sent askew. His belief system had not allowed for the possibility that the ministry officials could ignore a threat of this magnitude for so long.

It seemed a bad idea to let him dwell on it at this point, so Albus picked up the thread of his story. "We entered the summer holidays. Grindelwald had offered what looked like a positive opportunity to several young people, I began to attend my regular summer duties – acting as liaison to muggle-borns and organizing book lists for Headmaster Dippet – and I barely saw Lorelei or her sister for two weeks. I did run into Grindelwald at the ministry a couple of times, but he barely acknowledged me, and so I mostly steered clear of him."

"One morning I received an invitation to dine at Lorelei's home. I accepted, not imaging that she meant to introduce me to her entire family, or that I might not be the only guest. Her parents were, in fact, having a dinner party that evening," Albus explained. He could remember knocking at their fine Manchester home and being ushered in by a house elf with an odd, triangular nose and a plate of hors d'oeuvres. He politely introduced himself to her and asked how her evening was. The small creature had stared at him in shock and promptly dropped the tray. It had been the beginning of a comedy of errors that seemed to spin out of control with every passing moment.

"I'm so sorry," Albus had said. He'd then pulled out his wand and cleaned up the mess. "I do hope those weren't the last of your tartlets," he'd added, smiling slightly.

The house elf had stared with her eyes abnormally wide, even by an elf's standards. "House elves is not supposed to be talking to guests, Albus Dumbledore," she squeaked. "House elves is to clean up their own messes and welcome the guests."

"One could argue it was as much my mess as it was yours," he responded kindly. "I was merely doing my part."

The house elf had blinked twice as if she were trying to assure herself he was real.

"Lolly, whatever are you doing?" a woman demanded. She was beautiful with auburn ringlets and hazel eyes. She was dressed in elegant mint green robes with sparkling emeralds at her throat and dangling from her ears.

"I'm afraid I can be a bit clumsy," Albus had interjected. "Her plate of tartlets became the casualty. I was just attempting to apologize." Lolly began to mouth wordlessly, leaving her to resemble a fish out of water, gasping for air. Feeling it was best not to let her correct his story, Albus held out a hand to the woman. "Professor Albus Percival Wolfric Bryan Dumbledore, at your service, though I would be most pleased if you would call me Albus."

The woman took in his long beard and hair, and her expression morphed to disbelief and then horror, though at the time he'd been too dense to imagine why. She coughed slightly and struggled to compose herself. "You're – you're Lorelei's guest then," she stated. He had nodded slightly and smiled, half wondering if he was wearing a few of the fallen tartlets. But her next words explained what should have been painfully obvious in the first place. "My daughter is in the other room."

Albus Dumbledore was a name that was fairly well known by the turn of the century. It seemed nearly impossible for him to imagine she had not guessed he was a gentleman of years, but somehow that fact had been missed on the lady of the house until she'd come face to face with him. He had been slightly shaken himself. He was probably a couple years older than Lorelei's mother, a fact that cast an unseemly light on his fascination with Lorelei. He briefly considered making a hasty escape, but knew that Lorelei had been expecting him and that he'd already announced himself in such a way that there was no chance of turning back.

If he had thought the night would get easier, he was mistaken. Eleanor Figg led the way to the conservatory, where many guests were already gathered. His gaze immediately fixed on Lorelei, who was, at that moment, the center of attention, telling some story with much gesturing and tripping about. "Professor Dumbledore!" Arabella exclaimed from behind him. She rushed toward him and hugged him tightly as if he were a lifelong friend she'd not seen in ages, though the separation had actually been much shorter.

It was then that he also noticed Grindelwald in the room. The two locked gazes and merely nodded, but it caused yet another realization to cross Albus' thoughts. Wilhelm Grindelwald was a couple years his senior, while Arabella was Lorelei's youngest sibling. The age spread between the sisters was around sixteen years, accommodating for the four brothers in between. Arabella had stated that her father liked Grindelwald as a suitor for her. That made the look Eleanor had fixed on Albus seem even stranger, though he was sure he'd been correct in his assessment of its meaning.

Lorelei finished with her story and finally spotted him. She very nearly launched herself at him, a fact that renewed his awkwardness. The emotional pendulum that spun him from confidence to self-consciousness continued to swing thus throughout the evening, leaving him at some moments sure he had every right to be there, while suspecting at other moments that he'd simply lost his sanity.

Eventually they had sat down to eat at a long table in a dining room with huge chandeliers and the largest hearth he'd ever seen in a private home. He'd found himself seated across the large table from Lorelei, sandwiched between the Minister of Magic, and the First Undersecretary to the Minister, who seemed to be attempting to converse around him without encouraging him to join in the discussion. He'd just begun to wonder if anyone would notice if he turned himself invisible so that he could take his leave, when Tavin Figg shouted down to him, "So Dumbledore, I understand you are next in line for Headmaster at Hogwarts."

He inclined his head politely. "Though Headmaster Dippet assures me he is not yet ready to give up his fine office," he responded. "He told me that if the students did not give me white hair, the wait would." Several of the guests laughed at the touch of humor. Lorelei watched him, squinting her eyes slightly. He raised his eyebrows at her in question.

"I'm trying to picture you white-haired," she replied far louder than was necessary. He stole a glance at her mother and saw her mouth set in a hard, thin line.

_Might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg, _he had thought. "Allow me," he told Lorelei. He then pointed his wand at his hair and flicked it slightly, changing his hair color briefly with a simple spell. There was another slight wave of laughter. "You'll forgive my vanity, but I believe I prefer not to show you a lack of hair."

Lorelei grinned and shot a sideways glance at her mother. In that second, he realized she was aware of Eleanor's displeasure, but either derived some perverse amusement from it, or else just didn't care. "I think you look very distinguished either way," Lorelei responded before sipping from her goblet.

Eleanor, however, seemed sour for the rest of the meal, and when the guests were invited to listen to a string quartet they'd hired for entertainment that evening, the lady of the house glowered at him steadily until he decided it was best to take his leave. However, when he indicated this intention to Lorelei, she chewed her lip for a moment and implored him, "Could you stay long enough to walk with me in the garden?"

He'd nodded, though a part of him thought it might not be the best idea. Once outside with only Lorelei for company, many of his misgivings went forgotten. They walked hand in hand toward a large fountain where a few gnomes were chasing each other and splashing about. "If father saw those things, he'd have kneazles," she remarked. Albus chuckled slightly, wondering how to begin the conversation that seemed inevitable. The moments stretched. "Mother's behavior has you in knots, doesn't it?" Lorelei observed.

"You have an amazing propensity for understatements," he replied. "I admit that sometimes I forget my age – it becomes nothing more than a statistic to one's self identity and an unimportant one until faced with a protective parent who is, by the way, younger than I am."

"Well I just don't care," Lorelei returned in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Perhaps you should," he countered. "I am old enough to be your father.

"Yes, but I already have a father and I'm not in the market for another. Can you think of no other role for yourself?"

"I can, yes, but that is not the point. It would be more appropriate to ask, 'Should I allow myself to think of another role when there is such an age difference between us?'." He sighed, wondering how many months it would be before the thought of letting her go didn't make him ache.

"Just like a man to complicate matters of the heart with his head," she quipped sarcastically, poking him in the forehead with her index finger. "We are a wizard and witch, Albus, destined to live twice as long as muggles, and yet we tie ourselves to their notions of appropriate age spreads as if their rules were concrete. It's a laughable thought that my mother should subscribe to such nonsense, when, on nearly every other subject, she considers herself so far superior to muggles as not to bother with them at all."

He couldn't help but smile at her. "You put up a convincing argument," he said, "and yet I find myself wondering why you would, when there must be a hundred men your age pounding at your door. You have a way about you, Lorelei. I doubt you've ever gone anywhere unnoticed. Whatever makes me more interesting than any one of the younger men who are drawn to you?"

"I'm surprised at you, Albus, don't you know? I was completely enamored with you from the moment you asked my sister if she liked to dance as much as I do. All of my family treats her as an outsider and I always saw her brilliance in spite of them. I once told myself that I'd know the man for me by how he treated my Arabella. Now here you stand, wondering why I should be so taken with you." She stopped and blushed slightly, then smiled. "Goodness, Albus, I thought you were smart," she teased.

"I am far too old to constantly be left feeling like this," he confided.

"Like what?"

"A sweaty palmed teenager on my first date."

"Ohh." She laughed lightly and leaned in to kiss him. But hardly had their lips met when the solitude was interrupted by two consecutive pops of wizards apparating. Wilhelm Grindelwald appeared in the garden with a man wearing a Nazi uniform.

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	6. Chapter 6 Lovers' Spat

_Disclaimer: Mostly JK Rowlings characters with my own spin._

_A/N: The story information for Elijah is at the beginning of this chapter, which breaks from my usual pattern. I'm attempting to keep chapters short, though I get urges to draw them out to exorbitant lengths._

_And now..._

**Chapter 6 – Lover's Spat**

Elijah lurched to his feet, "You saw him with a _Nazi_? Surely you reported _that _to the Ministry!" He shook a finger at Albus as he spoke and his eyes were unnaturally large.

Albus pressed his fingertips together, wondering how to explain this in a way that Elijah would be able to accept. "Yes, Elijah, we both reported what we saw. Thanks to a quick spell, I was able to keep our presence undetected and both Lorelei and myself believed that the Ministry couldn't possibly ignore what we had witnessed, though neither of us understood anything spoken between the two. I have since learned to speak German, but did not understand a word of it two years ago."

"You might recall that the Minister was in Lorelei's home and we crept back in, pulled him aside to describe the scene. But then Tavin Figg sought us out, Grindelwald and his friend in tow, and told us that a spy had brought important information straight out of the Third Reich planning office."

"Grindelwald's companion was introduced as Hans Vandenhoff, and said that he was a wizard who had been sent to spy by the German Ministry before its destruction. With the desemation of the German Ministry of Magic, and the slaughter of hundreds of witches and wizards from its ranks, it seemed logical enough that Vandenhoff might choose then to report to an old friend who had survived, and that was Grindelwald."

"But we know now that Vandenhoff was one of Grindelwald's supporters. Several aurors captured him six weeks ago," Elijah argued.

"Quite right – we know _now,_" Albus replied. "Then, it was not so clear. Grindelwald set himself up perfectly, and left me to look like a paranoid fool in the process."

"Did Vandenhoff provide intelligence?" Elijah asked.

Nicholas nodded and answered for Albus. "Yes, he revealed that Axis Forces planned to invade Sicily in just days. On July 19th, that is precisely what took place, and British Forces were present. Our Minister talked to the other minister and passed on the information. It was a crushing blow for the Axis and led to Italy's surrender."

Elijah seemed to calm and took his seat again. "So the Ministry did the right thing," he remarked.

"Not entirely, Elijah, for they missed the obvious," Albus countered. "Here was a man claiming to be a spy within the German Army, yet he provided intelligence that more directly affected Italy. Do not forget that in two months, German forces evacuated Sicily and rescued Mussolini. Despite everything we thought we knew, Germany even managed to occupy Rome, while Britain's forces were too badly split to stop it. But more to the point, Germany managed to continue its campaign of genocide in that same summer, removing and murdering thousands of Jews who had been forced into the ghettos of Poland. We'd been too distracted to see these plans until it was too late. The muggle death toll was staggering, and our inside man didn't manage to warn us of any of it."

"Did you realize this right away?" Elijah questioned, in a such a low volume that Albus almost didn't hear him.

"No, Elijah, I did not. I did realize it before the Ministry did, but when I tried to warn them, I was told my credibility was in question and that my meddling could destroy Great Britain."

"That's quite an accusation," Elijah admitted.

"Yes," Nicholas interjected. "Albus probably won't tell you how it hurt him, but it did." Nicholas caught Albus' eye and offered an encouraging smile.

"But the worst of it did not fall on my shoulders," Albus pointed out. "It was Lorelei who felt the largest blow. Her part in questioning Grindelwald's intentions on the evening of the dinner party drove a wedge between herself and her parents, and her beloved sister by association. It was the latter that Lorelei pined for the most, having come to think of her sister as her best friend. She spent the rest of the summer with me, exchanging frigid correspondence with her father by owl, and struggling to find a way to reconnect with Arabella."

Albus recalled a number of occasions when Lorelei had burst into tears over the situation. Such an estrangement had never seemed possible to her before that time. Worse, Hogwarts, during the summer holidays, is not the best environment for someone who is a social being by nature. While Albus spent hours organizing student information and payments, and poring over curriculum changes with Headmaster Dippet, Lorelei had grown restless and sullen.

On one occasion, he'd found her down by the lake edge throwing bits of bread to the giant squid. He had known when he approached that she was in a temper, though he'd not realized it was rooted in frustration.

"Lorelei, dear heart, I've been looking for you for most of an hour," he had started. It had been the wrong thing to say.

"Had you expected me to be waiting in your office for you to light my existence with your company?" she snapped sarcastically.

He'd stopped short, unsure what how to proceed. Lover's spats were not a new concept to him, and yet at that particular moment he couldn't put his finger on what he might have done to anger her. "I never expect you to wait for me," he managed finally. "Certainly you have your own projects and you are free to move about as you please. Have I done anything to suggest otherwise?"

His reasonable tone seemed only to exacerbate her frustration. "Of course not. I think you hardly notice I'm here most of the time, and you usually don't ask how I've been occupying my days. You're busy with the running of this school despite the fact that no students are present. When it comes to Hogwarts you are completely myopic! Don't you ever go on holiday?" she demanded.

"Not often," he answered honestly, folding his hands together. "And only then at wand-point." He had thought that a touch of humor would help. It hadn't.

"All the other teachers are gone, Albus," Lorelei charged. "Even Dippet manages to escape for the majority of the week. I've grown tired of conversing with ghosts and the giant squid, not that you'd notice. I could have a sordid affair with a house elf and not manage to draw you from your endless books, notes and calculations!" She flung her hands in the air in a helpless and angry gesture.

Albus tried not to laugh, but the image of her stooping to kiss a house elf beneath his large nose was so ludicrous that he couldn't help it. To his horror, she responded by bursting into tears. He closed the distance and pulled her into his embrace, only reaching for his kerchief as an afterthought. He handed it to her.

"I have no projects, Albus, Arabella was my only one for the past two years," she whimpered. "My work in the muggle relations office was ended when the war picked up. I'm bored with reading and miss my own haunts. I had thought that exploring all the secrets of Hogwarts would be an adventure, but that dreadful Peeves shows up at every turn and has nothing better to do all day than pelt me with spit balls and insults. And I think you should know that he's far too fascinated with your anatomy to be allowed."

She'd said the whole thing so seriously that Albus again roared with laughter. This time instead of crying, she chuckled along. He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair slightly. "I'm afraid you've learned my darkest secret," he said. She lifted her gaze to meet his, confused. "While I may be able to figure out the twelve uses of dragon's blood, women remain a complete mystery to me. I had figured you'd share your adventures with me if you wanted to and I didn't pry, imagining that you would consider anything else an invasion of privacy."

She rolled her eyes and stared at him disbelievingly. "Do you mean that all I had to do was offer this information two weeks ago and could have been put out of my misery?"

"Yes, dearest, that is precisely what I mean. Very nearly all that you've told me can be fixed. I have some interesting spells that frighten the pranks right out of Peeves. There are secrets to Hogwarts that few know but myself; I could show you. Certainly you could visit your old haunts while I'm attending to tasks that I can't avoid, or wait until I'm free and let me accompany you. And I suspect that Arabella probably misses you as much as you miss her. She cannot apparate to escape your mother's consternation or your father's not-so-subtle hints about her marital status. If Wilhelm is behaving in his usual manner to her, she's probably desperately wishing we _had _transfigured him into a toad."

Lorelei smiled. "I hope you're right, Albus."

"Why don't we ask? I can stop being so obsessive about work for awhile. I'll accompany you. Is your family still in Manchester or did they move up to the house in Glasgow for the summer?"

"Glasgow. Father still prefers to spend the majority of each year in Scotland. Were it not for his Ambassadorial status, he probably would trade in the Manchester House. He's a bit of a snob that way."

"Let's stop by greenhouse one and take Arabella something exotic and colorful as a peace offering," Albus suggested.

"Got anything that nips German fingers?" she asked, one eyebrow cocked.

Albus laughed. "Still don't trust Grindelwald do you?"

"In my experience, those who prey on someone weaker than themselves are always bad apples."

If only she had realized sooner how very right she was.

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	7. Chapter 7 Hagrid

_Disclaimer: I own nothing_

_**Chapter 7 - Hagrid**_

"I don't understand why the Ministry was so willing to think the worst of you," Elijah muttered, staring at his recently emptied glass as if it might contain the answer.

"It is not that mysterious," Nicholas replied. "They did not like his stand on Rubeus Hagrid."

"Well the youngster did cause the death of another student," Elijah stated defensively.

"You will never convince me of that," Albus retorted, more harshly than intended. "I believe the Ministry has some question as well, though you'll never hear them admit it. Hagrid is just a boy, even if he is unusually large. He has some rare gifts, but his command of magic was always poor and I find it hard to believe that he could get around enchantments so powerful that no one at the Ministry or among the staff of Hogwarts has _ever_ found the hidden chamber of secrets." Albus knew the root of Hagrid's "rare gifts" of course, but he had no intention of giving away the secret of Hagrid's origins. Too many wizards were prejudiced against giants and would not respond kindly to the notion that Hagrid's mother was one.

"If he had not had an unnatural attraction to monsters, I doubt the Ministry could have convinced anyone of the boy's guilt," Nicholas remarked with a shrug.

"Unfortunately, their investigation would probably have concluded the same way," Albus pointed out. "They needed to appear to have resolved the issue and Hagrid was an easy target. I believe it is evident that too many questions remain – otherwise he would have been sentenced to Azkaban. The weeks he spent in Saint Mungo's only served to convince the public he'd been rendered 'safe' to be around wizard children. No healer ever found any sign that he was dangerous. He spent his time there being poked and prodded until the healers declared him free to return. Then the _Daily Prophet _buried the matter in the back pages and life resumed." Life had indeed resumed, though for Hagrid it had been a far different world than he was used to.

"If your support of Hagrid was the reason the Ministry shunned you, why then did Lorelei's father break with her?" Elijah asked.

"It might have been pride, or Grindelwald may already have had control of him," Albus responded. "Tavin had told Lorelei that he had been humiliated by her behavior during the dinner party. She argued that if she had seen someone conversing with a Nazi and _didn't_ report it, he should be much more concerned. It was his contention that she'd never talked back to him before and that was what precipitated the split. What maintained it though, was far more mysterious."

"Lorelei and I traveled to see her sister in Glasgow, hoping to repair some of the rift between them," Albus continued. "When we arrived at the estate, Tavin was in-house. Lorelei had barely glimpsed her sister when her father confronted her angrily, accusing her of trying to divide the family. Neither of us could imagine what he was talking about until Lorelei noticed a new ring on her sister's finger. The engagement cemented a bond between the Figgs and Grindelwald, and thus the Ministry by association. We only were able to see Arabella for five minutes, but she was clearly miserable. Ultimately, Lorelei's father demanded we leave and not drop by unannounced again."

"Lorelei was distraught. I spent two weeks doing my best to distract her. I introduced her to the merpeople, explored the hidden parts of Hogwarts with her, took her to meet my closest friends, looked up old friends of hers – but she really didn't come round until she had another soul to watch out for. There was a motherly aspect of Lorelei that will never find its natural outlet..." Dumbledore halted, feeling as though the air had been forced painfully out of his lungs. Tears rushed forward with much less warning this time than the last. He covered his face with his hands and wept, while Nicholas patted his back sympathetically, and slightly frantically, uncertain what to do. Though Nicholas knew more than most people, he was not apprised of everything, and it was the secrets that made Lorelei's death even more unbearable.

"Perhaps – perhaps the story can wait," Nicholas began.

"But I haven't learned of the trap!" Elijah protested.

"Look at him though!" Nicholas argued almost as if Albus was not present.

Albus produced his kerchief and wiped his eyes and nose. "I did tell you it was a long story," he reminded lamely. He knew he had to prepare them both for what was to come, even though Nicholas had done part of the work. The trap could be thwarted and it would be up to him to stop that from happening. If he failed, Nicholas and Elijah would have to find another way. It was the reason he forced himself to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Albus forged on. "It was then that Hagrid returned from his time at Saint Mungos. He was a broken boy, certain that he had let his father down with his expulsion. That is the reason we all call him Hagrid instead of Rubeus, you know," Albus commented. "He doesn't want his father forgotten."

Nicholas nodded as if to emphasize the point, just as the bar owner delivered another round of ale, though Albus couldn't stand the thought of more.

"The week before each session starts, the teachers usually trickle back from the break. Some have families who stay at the school, though we keep a separation of sorts. A few of the professors actually travel in by floo powder each day. I moved to new residential rooms to include a place for Hagrid to sleep as I had taken responsibility for him. Fond as I am of the boy, it was Lorelei who helped him adjust. He will be devastated when he learns she's gone. I imagine he will start to feel as if people around him are doomed." Albus sighed, working to quell the surge of misery. Nicholas again patted his back.

"Lorelei encouraged Hagrid to talk about everything, certain that it would be therapeutic for him. Perhaps that was true, but more to the point, it was enlightening. Hagrid had encountered two people at Saint Mungos who had survived the explosions at the German Ministry. They were not fans of Wilhelm Grindelwald – they actually had nothing good to say about the man. I never knew how Hagrid and Lorelei came round to the subject, but one evening when I joined them at the edge of the forest, I found them discussing him with much dislike."

He could picture the scene so clearly, Hagrid and Lorelei kneeling next to a hippogriff that had injured its wing. Ogg, the gamekeeper, would have put the creature down, but Hagrid had been unable to stand the idea. Since the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, a man named Kettleburn, had not yet arrived, Ogg had gone rounds with Hagrid about the hippogriff until Lorelei had volunteered to oversee him while he cared for it. Lorelei was not very comfortable with magical creatures, and yet she'd done that for Hagrid, something that had further enamored Albus with her. They'd been there most of the day, trying to bandage the wing and then trying to feed the beast without getting bitten for their trouble.

"How is she doing?" Albus had called out to the pair of them as he approached.

Lorelei looked up at him and smiled. She looked lovely, the evening sun reflecting off her blond curls. The light had returned to her hazel eyes, giving her more of the sparkle she'd had when they first met. "Flamewings is doing just fine," she replied cheerfully.

"Flamewings?" Albus had responded, amused.

"She's gotta have a name don' she?" Hagrid answered. "Lorelei give it to her."

"Ogg will have kneazles," Albus had replied, using one of Lorelei's favorite expressions. "He's afraid you'll get attached."

"Too late," Lorelei had chirped before standing up and walking toward him. When she reached him, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. They had not been openly affectionate where Hagrid could see before, but when next he observed Hagrid's face, the boy wore a huge grin – something that had not happened for weeks.

"Hagrid was sharing some information about my sister's fiancé," Lorelei informed him. "The more we learn about Grindelwald, the less I like him."

Immediately Albus had noticed that Lorelei had reverted to calling the wizard by his last name as if there had never been even the most limited form of friendship between them. He searched her face. "I'm not going to like this story, am I?" he had questioned.

"No," she shook her head for emphasis.

He sat down with them, listening to the tale and watching in amazement as Hagrid handled the injured hippogriff with a gentle touch few people possessed. Hagrid told of arguments witnessed by his Saint Mungo's friends, Lena Holcombe and Finn Barclay. They had seen Grindelwald threaten to kill the German Minister of Magic just days before the Ministry had been shelled. Holcombe had told Hagrid that what had her convinced it was more than coincidence was that fact that the Ministry had been magically reinforced against bombs just a few weeks before, due to the escalating muggle war. Barclay had then added that removing other people's spells was a specialty Grindelwald was known for. He was a talented cursebreaker, and in constant demand because he was so highly skilled.

Hours after they'd sent Hagrid to his room to sleep, Albus and Lorelei had stayed up discussing everything Holcombe and Barclay had told Hagrid. They knew they couldn't take it to the Ministry after so recently being reminded that Grindelwald had the Minister of Magic's confidence. They also knew that the Ministry would not consider Hagrid a reasonable witness, and they couldn't be sure what status the Ministry held for Holcombe and Barclay.

"But that's not the most disturbing part," Lorelei had remarked after they'd been over the statements more than thrice. "If what they've accused Grindelwald of is accurate, wouldn't that mean he's in league with the Nazis?"

"Precisely what I was thinking," he'd replied with his hands pressed together. "But if so, why? And how do we prove it?" Lorelei merely shrugged.

- - -

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	8. Chapter 8 Minerva McGonnagall

_**Disclaimer: I didn't invent anything you recognize**_

**Chapter 8 – Minerva McGonnagall**

"By the end of August that year, most of Britain had started to feel hopeful again," Albus recalled. "I'm sure, Elijah, that you remember those summer months – that we were certain victory was days away."

Elijah nodded. "The thwarted occupation of Sicily, the arrest of Mussolini, the air-raid in Hamburg; we were all sure it meant that the end of the war was near. I had friends in the aurors' office who joined the muggle military to help move it along more quickly."

"I, too, had wizard friends that began to cooperate with the muggles in that regard," Nicholas added. "It was a sight I thought I'd never see in my lifetime, long as it has been – wizards and muggles united by a common enemy." His expression became thoughtful, and Albus knew that Nicholas had long harbored a desire to see better cooperation. To Nicholas, such a concept represented the next step in human evolution, where peace and tolerance were the fashion. Albus had also longed for that ideal, though he suspected that either he was more pessimistic than Nicholas, or perhaps more realistic, as he believed that such an achievement would not happen for hundreds of years.

"To our surprise, two of the faculty took that same bold step," Albus stated, staring at a point on the wall for no reason he could explain. "It happened so quickly that we feared we'd enter the school session without professors for history and muggle studies. I managed to persuade Cuthbert Binns to return to his former post as professor for history of magic, despite the lack of notice. Alas, he shall not leave that post again, I'm afraid."

"Why?" Elijah asked idly.

"Don't you recall the story in the _Prophet_ last year?" Nicholas responded, surprise in his tone. Elijah's brow knit as if he were struggling to remember

"He passed away," Albus supplied. "But Professor Binns was always a very focused instructor and was so wrapped up in his lecture that he failed to notice his body had not traveled with him."

"Oh, the ghost teacher!" Elijah exclaimed. "I skimmed that story and I guess it didn't sink in well." He looked momentarily apologetic. "So you filled that position and I assume that the other position was filled by Lorelei."

"Precisely," Albus replied. "But strangely, it was not I who realized she was perfect for the job. That was Headmaster Dippet." In fact, it was a solution to a problem Dippet had been struggling to find a way to discuss with Albus at the time. Even though students were often not aware that some of the faculty had families at Hogwarts, the Headmaster had been concerned about public reaction to his deputy living with a woman he was not married to. Such relationships had been in and out of fashion throughout history. The current trend was disapproval, and with the magical community scrutinizing Albus' decision to take responsibility for Hagrid, it was likely to magnify his situation.

Albus could remember how Armando Dippet had stuttered as he struggled to find the tactful words to explain the situation. When Albus had finally understood what the Headmaster was suggesting, he had very nearly laughed. As more time elapsed, Dippet was getting more sensitive to public opinions, while Albus was beginning to care less what the rest of the world wanted.

"I -- I was hoping—" Dippet had licked his lips and tried again. "Perhaps if Ms. Figg would consent to join the faculty and – and have her own living space for – for appearances…" When Albus smiled, Dippet had looked so relieved that one might have thought he was talking his way out of an execution.

"That's a splendid idea!" Albus had responded. "She would be a fine choice for muggle studies." He had thought that Lorelei would need more than Hagrid to occupy her time, especially once the boy was busy assisting Ogg, whose job always quadrupled with the return of the students.

"She'll do it then?" Dippet had asked, wiping his brow.

"Well, you'll have to ask her, of course. I'm not in a position to make her decisions for her," Albus had said.

Dippet leaned forward in his chair slightly. "Dumbledore," he started. "Do you intend to make your arrangement more permanent?"

Albus could remember feeling again like an awkward teenager being asked to declare his intentions. Although he tended to think of his relationship as a permanent one, it was not entirely up to him, and knew it was not the time to discuss it with Lorelei, while she was still adjusting to the split from her family. "We have not yet talked about it," he answered honestly. "Lorelei is a free spirit, and not quite ready to be tied down. If she agrees to teach, we will keep our relationship from the public eye, though I may have to employ some intimidation to keep Peeves from declaring it to the school."

By the end of the day, Lorelei had been asked to accept the post as Professor of Muggle Studies. She had wholeheartedly agreed. Albus and Hagrid had helped her move some of her things and set up her office, and when school started three days later, all those who saw Ms. Figg moving about Hogwarts thought that she was simply there as a faculty member.

Albus had resumed teaching. Between those responsibilities, tending his duties as head of Gryffindor House, watching over Hagrid (who could be a handful) and working to keep his time with Lorelei out of the hands of the school gossips, Albus had had little time to worry over Wilhelm Grindelwald. In fact he didn't give the man much thought until one chill October afternoon when he returned to his office to find Minerva McGonnagall waiting there.

Minerva was dressed in crisp green robes, and her long black hair had been twisted into a tight knot at the back of her head. Not a hair was out of place, yet Albus knew, the moment he saw her, that the girl was troubled.

"Minerva McGonnagall, what a lovely surprise!" He stated in greeting. "What brings you back to Hogwarts so soon?"

She stood and waited there until he took his seat behind the desk, regarding him with uncertainty. "Professor Dumbledore," she started. Even her voice seemed stressed. "You – you told me that if I ever needed guidance…" She seemed so uncharacteristically frantic, that he found himself searching her eyes for the answer. She was frightened, and whatever had frightened her, someone she'd told her confidence to had shooed her away.

Albus lifted his wand, flicking it to shut the office door and bar any noise from escaping. "Minerva, you know you can come to me with anything, even if you think I might find it preposterous. You've never been the sort to jump to conclusions," he'd said frankly.

The girl looked at him like she was on the edge of tears. "I – Professor Dumbledore, I've seen something I should not have and – I have reason to believe that someone with a great deal of influence at the Ministry of Magic might be – might be fraternizing with the enemy."

He'd folded his hands and waited as she first explained the job she'd been hired to do by Wilhelm Grindelwald. It was monotonous work really, sorting through box upon box of damaged records, restoring what was salvageable and discarding much which was not. Of the students hired, only Minerva could read enough German to sometimes guess missing fragments to properly repair singed pages. Those items which could not be repaired magically were often brought to her, or set aside for Grindelwald so that he might fill in the missing sections.

During a recent week while Grindelwald had been in Scotland, his team of employees had continued on without him. Many of the documents were incomplete and the stack waiting for him had grown alarmingly. Thinking that she could help out and possibly earn enough of a recommendation to advance a career for herself, Minerva had scanned through some of the pages in the pile and had been surprised to discover that one was the personal journal of one Fritz Nederhausen, the German Minister of Magic who had been killed in the explosion that destroyed the German Ministry. Grindelwald's name had appeared repeatedly throughout as Nederhausen documented threats made by the former, as well as intelligence reports that linked Grindelwald to Adolph Hitler.

Albus sighed heavily, reaching across the desk to pat Minerva's hand and reassure her. He lifted his wand and made a mug of tea appear and a plate of biscuits. "Minerva, may I assume that you took this evidence directly to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Absolutely," she responded, as if he should never have had to question it. But then the former head-girl's face fell. "I was accused of having manufactured it, Professor Dumbledore." She stared directly into his eyes. "But I swear on the grave of Merlin that I did not. I've believed that Grindelwald was a decent man and that I was lucky for the opportunity given. I never dreamed…"

"Of course you didn't manufacture this," Dumbledore replied, feeling affronted for the girl. "You simply did what you had been taught was right, only to discover that politics often disregard hard truth for what is easy."

She smiled gratefully. "You believe me," it was only then that a few tears escaped her eyes. Minerva immediately retrieved a tartan kerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, apologizing for her display as she did so.

"No apologies, please. You have every right to be frustrated and angry. Crouch should be ashamed of putting his political aspirations before the good of world." He forced himself to stop before he vented his own frustrations with Crouch and Minister Starkey. "I assume the evidence you provided was confiscated?"

"Yes," she replied, but then smiled. "However, it was not the original. I always work from a magical copy first, in case I've made a mistake."

Dumbledore smiled broadly. "And the original?"

She retrieved a carpet bag that had been resting under the edge of the desk. "I brought it with me."

- -

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	9. Chapter 9 Reasons

**Disclaimer: This story is based of the fine work of JK Rowling. Don't sue, I own nothing.**

_A/N: I feel I owe a brief explanation of what comes in this chapter. Because the story line follows history as well as fictional characters, some actual notorious people get mention. I do not believe that anyone forced Hitler, Himmler, Mussolini or any of the murderers of the holocaust to do what they did. I did manipulate history to suit my own fiction. I believe that knowledge of the events of that time is very important, and through this story I am imparting tidbits that will hopefully encourage others to look up facts. I believe that by studying our own history, we can avoid repeating mistakes of the past – mistakes that we are even now tangoing with in the most dangerous fashion._

_And now……………………_

_**Chapter 9 - Reasons**_

"So the journal was in her possession for a year and a half?" Elijah demanded angrily rising to his feet. His eyes flashed with rage for a moment before he added, "It may have convinced others. It certainly convinced me of his guilt when I saw it."

"The original journal was in _my_ possession for a year and a half," Albus corrected, but a perfect copy had been delivered to Bartemius Crouch, who then turned it over immediately to Minister Starkey. I assume the Minister of Magic then gave it back to Grindelwald. You might recall that Bartemius Crouch can speak more than 200 languages. I'm sure he is capable of reading them as well, and I know one of those many languages is German. At best, he passed the journal on without reading it – a decision which seems highly remiss to me. However, I am not the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, am I?"

Elijah looked down, but fidgeted and then ultimately began to pace the room.

"I speak German fluently," Nicholas interjected. "So Albus, Lorelei and Minerva brought the journal to me the following Saturday. Minerva had sent Grindelwald an owl to resign, but stayed hidden, unsure what he would do when he discovered the missing journal."

"If she'd used a copy, he might never have noticed," Elijah observed, stopping the path he was nervously treading.

"Except that we were all certain that the minister would return the book to Grindelwald as a show of faith. Something that Bartemius Crouch had told Minerva suggested as much," Albus supplied. "So from the moment she walked out of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Minerva's job was over, her reputation within the ministry had been sullied, and her faith in the system had been obliterated. Both she and I knew she would never work for the Ministry of Magic again, which was a shame really, as I had once pictured Minerva as a future minister of magic."

"I never knew that," Nicholas said, turning a curious expression toward Albus.

"She's a brilliant girl and very focused. If she ever decides to go into teaching, Dippet would be a fool not to hire her," Albus replied.

"So Nicholas did the translation," Elijah cued impatiently, forcing himself to return to his seat.

"Yes," Nicholas replied. "I did a complete translation and confirmed what Minerva had already suspected; Nederhausen had carefully documented the actions of a man he believed to be dangerous, and he specifically stated that Grindelwald should be considered the primary suspect if he or his comrades at the German Ministry met an untimely end."

"We sent copies of the translation to the aurors' office, hoping to get someone interested in investigating before Crouch would have opportunity to forestall things. As you may have guessed, we were unsuccessful," Albus explained.

"Did Grindelwald go after Miss McGonnagall?" Elijah asked.

Both Albus and Nicholas turned a curious expression on the auror. "Did you never ask her that yourself?" Nicholas queried.

Elijah ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head toward his hand, attempting to distract them from noticing his lack of eye contact. "It – it didn't come up."

Nicholas shook his head in disdain. "I would think that was an important detail," he said.

"Perhaps attention to detail is not his strong suit," Albus retorted. He was beginning to think he'd been wrong when he thought that Elijah was basically a very good man. He turned to look at Elijah again. "Yes, though it was quite subtle. Initially he sent a polite response by owl telling her he was sorry to lose her and offering to write her a fine recommendation. He stated he hoped to keep in touch with her, of course certain helpful spells made it impossible for him to do so. He didn't know she was staying with Nicholas and Perenelle. He did try various methods of locating her, but between Nicholas, Perenelle, Minerva, Lorelei and myself, she was well hidden." Elijah met his gaze contritely.

"Shortly after that," Albus continued, "I was approached by Howard Dawlish and Nathan Madson, both of whom had been ordered to find her. The task was such a far cry from what they'd been hired to do that both began to question. Figuring that Minerva might have come to me if she was confused, both contacted me and asked what I knew. After a brief discussion, they went into hiding as well."

"We had always hoped that more of those Grindelwald had hired might come around," Nicholas added. "But it didn't happen. It is possible that he didn't chance their loyalties again, forcing it instead."

"Still, the fact that we were able to save those three gave us hope. However, Lorelei's family was not so lucky," Albus stated. "I had known that she continued to write to Arabella, hoping to dissuade her from marrying. It seemed the more she pushed, the more defiant Arabella became, and as the marriage drew closer, Lorelei began to try other avenues of persuasion. She contacted each of her brothers and shared pieces of the journal with them. Only one seemed to be convinced -- the eldest brother, Liam."

"Is this the reason Liam Figg was killed?" Elijah guessed.

"We believe so," Nicholas responded. "Unfortunately, Grindelwald managed the murder on a night he was dining with the Minister of Magic. Nevertheless, it seems an impossible coincidence that the one brother who was investigating Grindelwald so openly should have an unfortunate accident, don't you think?"

Elijah nodded, frowning. "Liam Figg was very vocal in his suspicions, and when he died it was the first time I heard any rumors among the aurors. However, they were still just rumors at that point and I trusted that the Ministry would look into them."

"Unfortunately your trust was betrayed, Elijah," Albus said bluntly. Again Elijah nodded, though he was staring at his shoes in the process.

"That was April, and I went with Lorelei to attend Liam's memorial service. Lorelei was very broken up. When she got the news, she'd cried for days. She attempted to pull herself together for the funeral, but anyone who knew her could see by the puffy eyes and drawn complexion that she was grieving. I had expected to see a similar appearance in Arabella, so imagine my shock when she stood there flushed and healthy, with the hint of a smile on her mouth. What's more, Arabella called me 'Albus', something she had never done before, even though I had considered us friends. It was for that reason alone that I searched her mind, but it was closed to me. No squib could manage that feat."

Elijah looked up, shocked. Albus was not certain if he was surprised at the open admission of legilimency, or the revelation that Arabella was unreadable.

"There are certain spells," Nicholas supplied, "rare though they are, which would prove incredibly effective in controlling the minds of squibs or muggles. A victim could literally be controlled to behave in a way entirely contrary to their nature – and convinced to do terrible things, perhaps even kill hundreds of thousands of people."

Elijah gasped. "Surely you aren't suggesting that Adolph Hitler might be the victim of mind control?" He looked appalled at the notion. Albus knew that Elijah was aware of the accusations of mind control in this case, though by his reaction, he must have dismissed them.

"I didn't bring up that name at all, dear boy." Nicholas responded. "However, it is interesting where one's mind leaps when given this information, isn't it?"

Nicholas and Albus watched each other for a moment as they let the pregnant pause stretch.

"It simply can't be!" Elijah exclaimed, shaking his head from side to side. It was not the first time in this conversation that the hint of mind control had been given. For the most part, Elijah seemed simply to have dismissed it until that moment.

"The point is, Elijah, that we do not know absolutely," Albus pointed out. "It is that doubt that makes the situation that much worse, and leaves us with a curious question should it prove to be true." He stood adding emphasis to his point by looking down at Elijah's face. "Should Hitler prove to be a victim, how do we treat him? Can this be undone? Can millions of people forget the actions of a leader without the magical world revealing itself? This is why we could not simply kill Grindelwald. The trap had to be set."

- - - - -

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	10. Chapter 10 Grindelwald and Hitler

Disclaimer: Oh you know the drill by now

_A/N: I'll poke all my lovely readers with the conspiracy stick now. Did you know that Adolph Hitler's footwear was very strange? While most of his companions are wearing square toed boots in shades of brown, photos show Hitler in round toed boots of an olive tinged material. I have assumed it was crocodile, alligator, or snake hide of some sort, but watch how easily this tidbit slides into the story. Poke. Poke. Of course, color photography of the time was not the best.  
_

_And now..._

**_Chapter 10 – Grindelwald and Hitler_**

Elijah sat back in his chair, staring at an undefined point on the wall. Both Nicholas and Albus said nothing, but shot looks at the man occasionally, trying to gauge whether he was ready for more or not. Eventually Elijah sat forward, his face in his hands, probably going over things in his mind which had plagued Albus for more than a year. He knew the questions well – if Hitler turns out to be nothing more than a puppet, how do we proceed? Is there a line of interference that wizards must not cross when dealing with the muggle world, and is that subject to how much interference had existed in the first place? Is there ever a moment when it becomes best to let a muggle suffer blame for that which he might be blameless due to magical manipulation? What if it's all wrong and Hitler really is the malevolent being he's believed to be, but it's only discovered after wizards thwart his capture? – In fact there were far more questions than answers and after months of hunting, that fact had not changed.

Finally Elijah broke the silence. "I think I need a drink." Albus turned his gaze automatically to the empty ale glass, but said nothing as Elijah ordered a stiff round of fire-whiskey.

The bar owner delivered the drink, disappearing unusually fast. The smoking drink seemed to revive Elijah some. When he'd finished his sip, he looked from Albus to Nicholas. "Getting to Hitler may be difficult for the muggles. It shouldn't be for us. Surely you've taken the steps to see if you can read anything from him?"

"Indeed," Albus replied. "That was my first move. I should tell you that it was not as simple as I originally thought it would be..."

"Magical protections?" Elijah interrupted, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, despite the provided napkins.

"Some magnificently complex charms," Nicholas revealed. "Oh they dared not do something so strong as the Fidelius Charm where muggles are involved, but we were amazed at the steps that _were_ taken to keep wizards away."

"Repelling charms, binding charms, confusion charms, all set off by apparating into the leader's vicinity, as well as a few other means of magical transport," Albus added. "And these were not just around Adolph Hitler. Himmler, Eichmann, Heydrich, Göring, Goebbels, Ribbentrop, Meissner -- every senior officer in the Reichstadt that we tried was as well protected. These kinds of protections were not in place for Mussolini, and we were able to establish that no magic was involved in his case at all. He led the way to fascism with the help of clever advisors; but everything he did was part of his own misguided ambitions. If he is executed in the coming weeks, as the Italian Government has promised, it will be justice"

Elijah listened to the whole thing with his mouth hanging open. "You did eventually get around the charms and curses, obviously. How?"

"We'd like to say it was due to our brilliance, but in this case it was luck," Nicholas answered.

"Again and again, we failed to break through the protections and began to wonder if we'd ever find the right combination of spells; as it turned out that was the problem -- the counter spells had to be completed in a certain order, and even so, we might not have succeeded, had it not been for the efforts of Von Stauffenberg's plot," Albus explained. Whenever he considered the actions of the German Resistance Fighters, Albus couldn't help but marvel at the courage it showed. Too many of the German People had not fought back against their government and the few that did were hunted with ferocity. Even knowing that would probably be his fate, Claus Von Stauffenberg had schemed with rebel forces to assassinate Adolf Hitler. In July of 1944, they had very nearly succeeded by planting a bomb in a briefcase at a meeting of Hitler's inner circle. The plan forever emblazoning the young muggle's name in history and it was now well known all over Europe, especially since von Stauffenberg _was_ executed. "When the explosive was set off, we were in the process of trying a new combination of spells, and were in place to apparate in and test most of the senior officers. The blast destroyed a charmed object that we had not yet found a way to disarm. We didn't even have to use any memory charms – we were well cloaked by invisibility spells and a few other exceptional charms.

Elijah considered this for a moment. "Von Stauffenberg might well have been braver than any wizard I've ever known. I'd never expected anything like that from a muggle," he muttered. Albus felt a slight irritation at the prejudice, but he decided not to dwell on it.

"Ultimately we were unable to read Hitler and his associates, despite the fact that some were injured, which only left us more uncertain about what has taken place," Nicholas divulged. "While the muggles all wonder how Hitler survived, it became apparent that there are protection charms on him, as well as some unusual apparel for a muggle. Imagine our surprise at seeing dragon-hide boots, for example."

"Well what the hell does that mean?" Elijah demanded, slamming his fist into the table for the second time that evening.

"It means, Elijah, that it is possible Hitler has knowledge of the wizarding world. Or, it is possible that they were simply a gift and he doesn't really know what they're made of," Albus replied. "Unfortunately, it only added further questions to ponder."

"And you haven't heard the most damning thing that happened that hot summer day, Elijah," Nicholas remarked. "Grindelwald appeared immediately after the blast and put the flames out with his wand."

Elijah lurched to his feet once more, in the process knocking over the table and sending his remaining fire-whiskey flying along with the empty ale glasses and used napkins. Albus cleaned up the mess with a flick of his wand before the unhappy bar owner was left with the chore. "Surely you went back to the ministry at that point!" Elijah exclaimed.

"Oh yes, we most certainly did," Albus responded, indicating himself and Nicholas. "I tried to apprise them of everything that we had witnessed. I foolishly thought that Minister Starkey would listen, especially given the rumors that surfaced after Liam Figg's untimely death. In the three months that had passed, speculation had grown extraordinarily, and yet he still stubbornly refused to hear me out. Crouch, however, was not so closed-minded this time. However, he told me we would have to keep our investigation incognito for a time and that he needed something solid to take to the Wizengamot if he was going to disregard the Minister of Magic's orders."

Elijah resumed his chair and seemed to calm some. "That's good. Took him long enough though."

"Elijah," Albus started cautiously. "It took Crouch even longer than that. Ask yourself when he actually assigned your predecessor to poke around, or when you yourself got the assignment. Moreover, what I'm telling you tonight may seem new information to you, but I assure you that I have not kept it a secret. Perhaps I didn't shout it from the rooftops, but then I have students to consider and no desire to bring them to harm by recklessness. Also, there was Lorelei and Hagrid, both of whom are – were dear to me." And like so many times before that evening Albus found himself swept into a wave a grief. For two years they had been mostly inseparable. He had not spent a single day without at least glimpsing her smile and hearing her laugh. Her mostly bubbly attitude was occasionally darker. But somehow, even her tempers had become softer in his memory, and he knew he'd give anything for her to shout at him for the risks taken in setting the trap, instead of knowing he'd never see her again. She would have yelled at him passionately and when it was over, they would have made up the way they always did, clinging to one another as if nothing else on Earth existed but them and the emotion between them. He had known there were changes on the horizon, but it was not supposed to have been like this. There was supposed to have been joy, a wedding, a real family – he knew his mind was wandering into dangerous territory. There were things he could not allow himself to dwell on until Grindelwald was stopped. And then – what came then?

"... you at the Ministry?" Elijah was asking.

"Hmmm?" Albus had been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd mostly missed the question.

"No, Lorelei was with Perenelle and Hagrid," Nicholas answered for him, shooting Albus a worried look. "Minerva had traveled to see her family, taking her two friends with her in case there was trouble. Perenelle had thought that Hagrid and Lorelei needed a day of frivolous spending and ice cream. It was a decision they'd made before Albus and myself decided to try the spells again. Lorelei was quite angry that she had not been included that day, but then, we'd never imagined that we'd actually break through the charms, and as I said, it was pure luck."

"Lorelei was angry for being left out, angry at the ministry, and hurt over something she'd seen in the _Daily Prophet_," Albus clarified. "Two days earlier, Arabella had married Wilhelm Grindelwald. It was a blow to see the announcement in the paper and her sister had not invited her despite how close they had once been. As you know Diagon Alley is slow to pick up muggle news, even when it affects the wizarding world. Consequently they'd not yet heard about the explosion. Also, judging by the number of shopping bags they'd returned with, I doubt they stayed in one shop for long." Perenelle and Lorelei had probably visited _every_ shop, dragging a mostly disgruntled Hagrid along in their wake as they ogled antiques, tried on dress robes and gowns, and examined cookware. Lorelei had appeased the teen by purchasing a new pet for him, one which Albus was not sure he approved, simply because it kept eating his best socks – a crup which someone had named Fuzzil. Hagrid was delighted with the creature and spent the evening encouraging it to chase things twice its size, including Fawkes, Albus' pet phoenix.

Lorelei and Perenelle had sat down with Albus and Nicholas that evening to watch Hagrid chase round the garden with Fuzzil and Nicholas' wolfhound, Speckles, and to discuss the events of the day. When they had relayed everything that had taken place, Lorelei had looked stunned. "Dragon hide boots?" she'd repeated in shock. "Grindelwald showed up personally to clean up?" She shook her head in disbelief.

Perenelle had patted her arm sympathetically. "One thing I've learned living as long as I have -- this too shall pass, Lorelei," she'd soothed. "Though it may take about five more pink parasols," she added with a grin, referring to one of the items they had purchased during their shopping trip. It was Lorelei's favorite acquisition of the day.

Lorelei had chuckled at that before replying despondently, "You realize this man is now my brother-in-law, right?" She'd stood restlessly and stared out into the settling night, placing one delicate hand on the porch column. "When Arabella was a little girl, she told me how much she wanted to find herself a handsome wizard who would sweep her off her feet. They'd have a huge wedding and live in a big house. It never occurred to me to remind her to wish that he was a decent human-being, or that he'd actually love her. Unfortunately, she got all she wished for and nothing more." She had then begun to cry silently, leaving her companions uncertain what to do.

Albus had stood and put his arms around her. "It's not too late, you know. If we stop Grindelwald, she can start over. She's a beautiful young woman and I know there will be some great love in her life."

Lorelei had turned in the circle of his arms, looking at him imploringly. "It cannot be a case of 'if', Albus. We _must_ stop him. Promise me that no matter what happens, we'll find a way. Please, promise me?"

Albus wondered now if some part of her had known she would die. He would keep his promise to her and not think about his losses until it was done. But then what? Hagrid was fifteen and hardly needed care – only enough supervision to keep the Ministry off his back. In what felt like mere minutes, Grindelwald had destroyed that which Albus had never thought he'd have in the first place – his family. Strangely, though existence before Lorelei had seemed perfectly fine, even sometimes happy, he couldn't imagine what came after her death, or ever wanting to smile again. Sometimes one person could change another so profoundly that it was impossible to go back.

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	11. Chapter 11 George Ellison

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_**Chapter 11 – George Ellison**_

"When did your predecessor get the assignment, Elijah?" Nicholas asked hesitantly, though he already knew the answer.

"Last November," Elijah replied grudgingly.

"Another four months," Nicholas translated. Elijah shook his head and inhaled sharply. Nicholas stroked his thick gray beard thoughtfully. "Much happened within that time. Were your files complete from this point onward?"

"I don't know," Elijah answered, his shoulders slumping. "If you had asked me that question this afternoon, I would have said they were absolutely complete. Now, between what you've divulged tonight and what I saw at dusk..." He shrugged almost angrily, bumping the table with his wrist, and overturning his empty fire-whiskey glass. The glass rolled to the floor, but didn't shatter. The three of them watched the glass' progress as it traveled across the oiled wood floor toward the bar. Any one of them could have halted it, but somehow, it seemed representative of the matter at hand, rolling to collide with the one piece of furniture in the inn which was immoveable. Only when it crashed into the ancient bar, bounced slightly and finally stopped on its own did Elijah pull out his wand and clean up the mess. He didn't summon the glass, but picked it up manually instead.

"George Ellison was a great man and a dedicated auror," Albus interjected. "However, his official notes will not be complete because he felt that someone was interfering with his investigation. His private notes would likely be more enlightening. We must hope they were not on his person when he was killed. If they were, they are as badly burned as he was."

"Or worse, they are in the hands of the other side," Nicholas reminded with a cock of his eyebrow.

Elijah blinked in such a way as to make the act seem a loud gesture. "Did he – did he ever say where in the chain of command he thought interference might be coming from?"

"No," Albus responded. "George was not the type to accuse without solid proof and would have thought less of us for suggesting he should. He did share other information with Nicholas and myself, just as we shared information with him. He interviewed Minerva long before Magical Law Enforcement did it officially."

"He accomplished much in the brief time he was assigned to the task," Nicholas remarked, nodding his approval.

"So I'm beginning to see," Elijah admitted.

"Were you aware that he also spoke with Howard and Nate, and attempted to speak with those still in Grindelwald's employ?" Albus asked. Elijah shook his head. "We believe it was the latter that ultimately led to his death. We're also not sure that his murder was carried out by Grindelwald himself – there's reason to believe that Gregory Smith did the actual spellwork, though I have my own hypotheses to support that accusation. You should know that Gregory regularly practiced certain spells that were obvious in the room where we found George's body." Even as he said it, he could picture the grisly sight he had tripped across in mid-December. He and Nicholas were to meet George to discuss something he had discovered, though what that was had never been determined. Despite the passage of several months and the constant attempts to retrace the auror's steps, Albus still didn't know what piece of information had cost George his life.

"You're sure this is the correct address," Nicholas had asked him as he brushed snow off his hat and stomped his boots to shake the collected snow. It had always amazed Albus that although Nicholas was arguably one of the most skilled wizards in the world, his everyday use of magic seemed hesitant. For his own part, Albus had produced his wand and melted the collected snow from his robes, boots and beard. The warm heat had made him extremely comfortable and he pointed his wand to repeat the same service for Nicholas, but the ancient man had waved him off.

"No thank you, Albus. I believe if I become too reliant on magic, I'll forget how to walk," Nicholas had stated with an amused expression that indicated he was joking, though his consistent avoidance of everyday magic suggested otherwise.

"I think, perhaps you are addicted to shivering," Albus had teased. "And to answer your earlier question, I am absolutely certain this is where he told us to meet him, although I cannot imagine why." He had then looked up at the unfamiliar building that loomed in front of him. It was an old structure that had seen better days, close enough to the Thames to serve businesses that used water commerce, close enough to the parliament buildings to still make a quick trip by motor car, and yet far enough away that Londoners probably never took notice of it. The door was large and heavy, made of metal that had rusted severely. The windows were boarded from the outside and rubbish lay near the doorway as though no one had been by to care for the facility in many months. Albus and Nicholas waited, having been instructed not to knock, but to put out the nearby street lamps and remain quiet until George arrived. He had promised not to be tardy; still the moments stretched. Nicholas blew warm air on his hands a couple of times and stuffed them in his pockets looking miserable. The snow began to fall more thickly and the wind picked up, making the wait even more uncomfortable.

Once the chill had started to soak through his robes and cloak again, Albus pulled out his wand to warm himself and this time flicked the same spell at Nicholas without warning. Nicholas sighed at the unexpected heat and smiled. "Couldn't stand it, could you?" There was too much gratitude in his voice for Albus to mistake it for a complaint. "If George doesn't show up soon, Perenelle will have to levitate me from my bed in the morning until I can choke down some of that potion she brews for arthritis."

Albus had smiled slightly. "There's no need to suffer the cold, old friend, as you well know. I believe a wise man once told me that if you live long enough, you'll see a time when things that are wrong become right, and that which is unnecessary becomes necessary." He'd paused for effect and then added, "Wasn't that you?"

Nicholas snorted. "I'm far too old to recognize my own quotes, Albus. That's the great thing about living past 500 – all your old, forgotten ideas resurface and you marvel at the brilliance of them as though they were new."

Albus had laughed outright, despite the air of secrecy. "I believe they call that 'senility' in muggle circles." Nicholaus glowered, which only made Albus laugh more.

They had continued to wait, feeling more and more anxious with each passing minute. They very nearly disapparated before discovering what waited behind the door, but decided to wait a few minutes more in the cold of the night, hoping that George would arrive. There were moments that Albus wished they hadn't snooped in that warehouse, simply to avoid the horror that revisited him in dreams; but they had. A full thirty minutes past the time when they were to meet George, Nicholas decided he was through, but did not want to go away without some idea of why George had called them to that particular location. They had even argued the point, though Nicholas won in the end by pulling out his wand and popping the door open, then strolling inside. Albus had been left with little choice but to follow.

The building looked empty at first – a fact that did not seem out of place given its outward appearance. But it was a little too empty. Despite the fact that this was centered in muggle London near the waterfront, it seemed impossible to believe that debris and rodents would not have collected in an empty warehouse. There was also no dust or cobwebs, even though it was cleverly disguised to appear as if no one had been there in years.

They walked through the empty space, boots clicking on poured concrete floors. A few briefly exchanged words had echoed so loudly as to convince them to remain silent. There had initially seemed no reason for George to have invited them there or for them to continue, but something drew Albus forward and Nicholas reluctantly followed, until they came across the stairwell and immediately smelled smoke and some other putrid scent reminiscent of singed hair and boiled meat.

Propelled forward against his worst fears, Albus had descended the stairs two at a time, but if he had arrived an hour earlier, there would not have been time to save George. Magical traces of enhanced severing charms marred all corners of the space and had separated George's head from his body long before he'd been set ablaze. Additionally his hands and feet had been cut off and left in the four corners of the room, though to what purpose, Albus could not imagine. He had fallen over a large gouge in the floor as he unwittingly backed away from the horrific sight, and lay in a heap staring at the charred head of a man he'd considered a friend.

George's death would be the beginning of more overt murders and soon the whole magical world would echo the fact that Grindelwald was evil, though they seemed unable to do anything about it.

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	12. Chapter 12 Mind Control

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_A/N: I had intended 12 to be a bit longer, but I got so busy describing things that I had to split it, so the Christmas scene has to come in 13 and is still too lengthy. _

**Chapter 12 – Mind Control**

"I was part of the team that investigated George's death," Elijah stated. "It was horrible. It had been a long time since I'd seen something so grisly that it made me vomit. George was – he was a good guy – a colleague that I greatly admired. And everyone was talking about how it had to be Grindelwald – everybody but Crouch, who had said he did not accuse without proof." The final words had been stated acidly as if Elijah was starting to suspect Crouch of duplicity.

"Something George might have said," Nicholas observed with irony. Elijah stared open-mouthed.

"Why did it take so long to reassign his caseload?" Albus asked Elijah pointedly.

"Oh, there were a dozen perfectly valid reasons that seem ridiculous now," Elijah answered flippantly. "It was almost Christmas and a few aurors were taking holiday. Happenings with the muggle war provided distractions: The sudden reduction in air raids over England as more and more pressure was put on Hitler, the fact that we were suddenly discussing the progress of the Battle of the Bulge in our pubs instead of the latest quidditch standings – they all seemed reasonable enough distractions at the time. Also, George's murder bothered us and unlike you, we didn't know he was at that location investigating Grindelwald. Despite suspicions, we briefly thought that it was another investigation that had led to his murder and we chased that for awhile. But nothing ever came of it."

"We were questioned by Minister Starkey personally about our presence there that night," Nicholas interjected.

Elijah stopped and stared. "Are you suggesting that he knew George was there investigating Grindelwald and failed to pass it on?" Elijah had blanched, and the now pasty complexion left him looking weak and frightened.

Cautiously, Albus replied, "You see why George might not have been in a rush to accuse anyone of anything."

Elijah thrust his hands against his face and drug them down, stretching the skin in the process and making his eyes appear unnaturally wide. "Merlin's beard! The minister!"

"Before you get yourself in a bind, Elijah, you must remember that Grindelwald is apparently talented at mind control. We do not yet know the limits of his talents, except to say that he either cannot control myself or Nicholas, or he never attempted to. We're also not sure if he is unable to control Minerva, Howard and Nate, or if he just never tried with them as well. He did attempt to control George Ellison, but George broke free. We believe that's why Grindelwald ordered him killed. I think it is inadvisable to assume that anyone is in league with Grindelwald until we cut off that particular ability."

"Wait!" Elijah said, lurching to his feet. "Up until now you've given me no reason to believe that he could control anyone but muggles and squibs, which is a far cry from controlling a wizard. Aside from confundus charms which only work on the weak-minded, what proof have you that he can?" Albus noticed that Elijah had this time stood with his wand in hand, as if he might need protection. Despite the focus of his question, the man also glanced around him as if watching for an attacker. And Albus chose not to contradict Elijah with regard to confundus charms, which were usually easy to deflect, but could be very dangerous if a wizard was lucky.

"I suppose that's true. And I might have had doubts myself until last fall," Albus replied. "Perhaps though, I need to step back a little." Albus also stood and began to pace slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "I told you that Grindelwald appeared to have built an almost unnatural friendship with Lorelei's father, and that Tavin Figg was a powerful wizard who had once been tapped for minister of magic, though he declined. Surely the thought crossed your mind that he was too accepting of Grindelwald. I know it had crossed my mind. But honestly, we never saw anything solid prior to October and even then we were not sure what it meant. Lorelei's mother was overcome with sentimentality and invited Lorelei to her father's birthday party. One step into their Manchester home and we could see every sign of Grindelwald and very little of a family that had lived there for years. Even the title above the door had been changed from _Hame o Scot Figg_ to _das palais auf Grindelwald, _but the family seemed oblivious to it.

In an instant, Albus' memory transported his thoughts to that night, and he was once again standing beside Lorelei at the entryway, staring up at the lettered arch above the double doors. She had turned her gaze to him, and sputtered before they'd ever lifted the knocker, " When – how long do you think this has been changed?" Her finger shook as she pointed.

"I do not know, Lorelei," he'd answered. "We could turn right around and disapparate if you prefer," he'd offered, knowing full well that she would visit her family in hell if that was where they'd moved to. She had shaken her head and lifted the knocker with trepidation. The door was answered by the same tiny house elf he'd seen at the dinner party more than a year earlier.

"Lolly!" Lorelei had exclaimed warmly. It was the first time Albus had ever seen someone hug a house elf. For a moment Albus felt a little invisible as Lorelei and the house elf embraced and then eyed one another as if the separation had been long and painful.

"Yous looks healthy, Miss Lorelei," Lolly had said finally, stepping back from Lorelei and tucking her hands behind her back.

"Lolly," Lorelei had replied pleadingly, "Don't start treating me like a stranger. Albus knows you raised me and that I speak fondly of you." He _had_ heard her mention Lolly on many occasions, but the truth was that he'd never realized their relationship until that moment. Lolly was more of a mother to Lorelei than her own had been. "And likewise, Albus, Lolly heard much about you after I met you in the Hogs Head and again after we went bowling. She was very taken with you after the dinner party that changed my life."

Albus had smiled politely and greeted Lolly more warmly then, bending low in a sweeping gesture to shake her hand, only to rise and meet the disapproving glare of Eleanor Figg. "Lolly, why must you dally about with the guests at the door? It is most improper," the older woman berated, scowling.

The chastised elf responded, "Yes Madam," and disappeared with a pop.

"Lorelei, it is good of you to grace us with your presence," Eleanor Figg continued. She cast a disapproving look at Albus. "Professor Dumbledore," she added before turning her back and returning in the direction she'd come.

"Good to see you again," Albus had mumbled mostly under his breath as they followed a short distance behind. "That's a lovely dress Mrs Figg." Once Lorelei had begun to giggle he continued the pretend conversation with, "Why thank you, I happen to be rather fond of this particular set of robes myself."

Lorelei stopped him, placing a hand on his arm, "Only you could make me laugh when I was just wanting to melt into the floor boards." She tugged at his beard playfully and winked, leaving him feeling less nervous.

But the situation seemed to worsen with every step; the conservatory hardly resembled what he'd seen on his last visit. The furniture had been changed from the tasteful, neutral, regency pieces to dark and expensive biedermeier tables and armchairs. Even the tapestries had been changed. Lorelei was so shocked that she couldn't sit. She stared open-mouthed, her eyes moving from furnishing to furnishing.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Eleanor had said promptly. Her mouth smiled but her eyes appeared almost vacant. Albus felt Lorelei slip her hand into his, and she squeezed his hand so tightly that it was almost painful. "Arabella and Wilhelm are going to stay and live here in Manchester and your father and I will be returning to Glasgow on a more permanent basis."

"And you – you've given this house to them as a – a wedding gift then?" Lorelei had managed. Of course, it wasn't unheard of – parents had often passed on a home to future generations and since the home in Manchester was not the one Tavin Figg preferred, it didn't seem that unlikely.

"Wilhelm's family home would be in Nazi territory now," a voice said behind them. Albus and Lorelei had turned together and looked to where Tavin was standing next to Wilhelm Grindelwald. Tavin also had the vacant-eyed expression his wife wore. "We could hardly send our youngest to live in Nazi territory even though Wilhelm is more than capable of protecting her." He patted Grindelwald fondly.

"I guess I had imagined that – uh – Wilhelm had a home in England since he's been living somewhere nearby," Lorelei responded, forcing a smile. She glanced once at Albus and her expression was nearly frantic. She moved the gift she'd been holding in her left hand so that it was then gripped within both. She walked briskly toward her father and offered it. "We've brought you something for your birthday." Tavin took the gift and she kissed his cheek and backed up until she was once again at Albus' side.

Tavin had stood in the same place and unwrapped the box, revealing a particularly fine, gold watch that Lorelei and Albus had purchased during their last trip to Hogsmead. "What a fine piece," Grindelwald had remarked, and Tavin had promptly handed it to him without a word. Grindelwald had lifted it pointedly, connecting the chain to his belt right in front of them.

"I think you can image how completely taken aback we were," the Albus of the present told Elijah. "We didn't stay for dinner. We made hasty excuses and left promptly. Lorelei did not even get a chance to see Arabella. But when we got out to the garden, we were approached by the last person we expected – Lolly."

"The house elf?" Elijah asked incredulously. Albus nodded and ignored Elijah's prejudicial tone and narrowed eyes.

In the dusk, the house elf had told Albus and Lorelei of the deterioration of her home, and that loved ones no longer acted like themselves. Albus could remember the poor creature sobbing inconsolably into a tea towel, blowing her odd triangular nose repeatedly. "It isn't right, Miss Lory," she'd howled. "They is not themselves. I's not supposed to be speaking, but you's family," she'd added. "He treats my's family like vermin, and I's not supposed to say."

"Has he used his wand on them?" Albus had asked gently. "Perhaps you've seen some sort of spell which keeps them compliant."

Lolly had looked frightened, her huge eyes widening further. She seemed on the verge of answering, and then backed off, terrified.

"Lolly, don't be afraid. You're with us; no harm can come to you," Lorelei had urged.

"I's never seen spells, but I's seen his shadow as he flicked his wand at them. He did not say words, though, I's sure of that." The tiny elf bit her lip hard as if she'd already said too much.

"There would not have to be words, Lolly," Albus replied. "Grindelwald is a powerful wizard and may not need to speak to cast spells, just as I don't." Albus had looked up at Lorelei, his eyes locking with hers. He could see she was worried for Lolly and did not want her to go back to the house. "You could free her," he suggested.

"No!" Lolly shrieked and stared horror-stricken at Lorelei. "It is shame!" she'd squeaked. "I's not deserve to be shamed!"

"Lolly, you are not safe there," Lorelei argued, casting one worried glance back toward the house. "It is bad enough that Arabella, Mum and Dad are all under his control, I don't want anything to happen to you."

Lolly smiled slightly. "You's been talking about freeing me since you's was thirteen, Miss Lory. I's told you then and I's tellin' you now, I's staying!" Her countenance was set firmly.

Lorelei had caught Albus' eye and they shared a silent conversation, both of them tempted to return to the house and attack Grindelwald, and both aware that it was probably foolhardy to challenge a powerful wizard in his own home, despite the fact that he had acquired it by duplicitous means.

"Then I'm giving you orders," Lorelei told Lolly sternly. "Take care of Arabella and yourself, Lolly. If she's in danger or you are in danger, run to Hogwarts and I'll help. That's an order, Lolly. Although I worry about Mum and Dad, they welcomed him of their own accord and they are wizards; Arabella isn't. And I don't believe for a second that Grindelwald will keep you around if he doesn't have to. He isn't actually your family, even though he married into it, and that will weigh heavily upon his mind if he knows you've witnessed his misdeeds."

Lolly had nodded once to acknowledge the order and then disappeared, presumably returning to the house.

"Do you have any guess what spell he's using for this purpose and if there's a counter spell?" Elijah asked, pulling Albus back from his memories.

"There are several possibilities," he answered. "This could also be a spell he's invented, though I feel it is likely the imperius curse based on the description George gave us." The imperius curse had been growing in popularity. It was not an easy spell to use and no one really knew its origins.

"I think I need to find George's notes," Elijah said, looking worried.

"And you need to stop investigating solo," Nicholas advised. "It would be too easy for him to take control. If it is the imperius curse, you can't know your ability to escape it until it has been placed upon you."

"Will your trap reveal the spell he's using?" Elijah asked.

"Yes, as well as who he's maintaining control of," Albus replied.

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	13. Chapter 13 Christmas Gifts

_Disclaimer: Hopefully Ms. Rowling remembers that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery._

**Chapter 13 - Christmas Gifts**

"Am I going to understand why you lured Grindelwald into Nicholas' laboratory?" Elijah asked impatiently.

"I didn't. It was never my intention to set the trap this evening," Albus responded. "It was by a sheer stroke of luck that I had finished the spell work and was ready when Lorelei brought him in."

"Do you mean to say that Lorelei..." Nicholas stopped abruptly as the full weight of the situation finally struck him. He inhaled loudly and looked horror-stricken. "Did you know immediately?"

"He entered the lab first and attacked. He ordered her in during the fight to put me off balance, and it worked."

Elijah shook his head violently from side to side and waved his hands. "Wait, wait, wait, wait! Are you saying she was under Grindelwald's control and that he used her to reveal the location of the lab?"

"Precisely," Albus said, wishing that it had not been so. She might still be alive – they might still be alive then.

"But how did he ever get in a position to work a spell on Lorelei?" Elijah pressed.

"He knew her weaknesses," Albus explained.

"Arabella?" Elijah suggested.

"Indeed. Lorelei is -- was someone who would charge a dragon with a bucket of water if it meant defending someone dear to her heart. It was how she was able to break free of the spell too, but much too late to stop the wheels of fate." He breathed deeply, trying to force back the swelling grief, aware that soon it would consume him despite his efforts.

"She broke free?" Nicholas exclaimed, surprised.

"Yes, she broke free," Albus answered, though the sudden resurgence of sorrow had kept him from explaining the circumstances. He probably should have explained that Grindelwald had directed Lorelei to attack, and that he had briefly attempted to deflect her spells before she broke free of Grindelwald's curse, but it was as though Albus had run out of voice.

"After Christmas, he probably should have realized that she would do anything for a loved one," Nicholas observed sagely. "I doubt very much if Grindelwald understands much of love though."

That seemed an understatement to Albus. It was true, Christmas probably should have taught the man that Lorelei could be fierce when protecting those she loved – she had very nearly killed Grindelwald then. If only she had, then she would be alive and safe and they would be embarking on a future together. Albus could have also finished Grindelwald then; but at Christmas it had seemed like murder. Somehow his high morals appeared cowardice in light of his losses. How he wished to go back and relive that time, when he could have remapped the future by changing a split second decision. He had questioned himself then, but Lorelei had assured him that it showed character. Character seemed a small consolation now.

"What happened at Christmas?" Elijah asked. Albus grimaced, even though some part of him had known that Elijah would be curious.

His mind drifted back and he found himself wishing he could reside there, not in the time of the battle, but to those private, cherished memories that came before and had kept him from lamenting Christmas. For all that had taken place, it was a happy time – possibly the happiest he would ever know now that she was gone.

Christmas 1944 had dawned to fresh snow and a heap of gifts larger than any Albus could remember. Both he and Lorelei had gone a bit overboard in shopping for Hagrid; they had given him enough presents to make Father Christmas feel outdone. But also, Lorelei had become a very popular teacher. Her class roles were abnormally large considering the subject matter. The portraits had also confided that more than a few of the male students had a bit of a crush on the pretty blond; several of those students had demonstrated their affection for her by presenting her with Christmas packages.

Albus could picture the small room that adjoined his sleeping quarters to Hagrid's. They had gathered there to exchange gifts and the house elves had been kind enough to deliver Lorelei's gifts there rather than to her own office and sleeping chamber, where she almost never stayed. They had put up a minuscule Christmas tree and a few assorted decorations – nothing so elaborate as what decorated most of the rest of Hogwarts. Shortly after they'd awakened, the room had been littered with bits of brightly colored wrappings, discarded boxes, and large ribbons. Albus was facing another large stack of books and contemplating magically stretching another bookcase to hold them.

"You missed one," Lorelei had teased, tossing him a small, soft package.

He'd unwrapped a large pack of purple socks. "Were you feeling my feet were neglected?" he'd inquired, barely containing a grin.

"At least it's not another book," she'd replied, with a huge grin.

"Why purple?" he asked.

"Remember what you wore when we went bowling?" she had responded.

He laughed loudly. She had managed to find the exact shade of purple that his suit was. "I thought you had declared that suit to be awful."

"What can I say, it grew on me. Now I can't imagine removing it from your wardrobe. It's officially part of your endearing quirks, Albus."

"I have no quirks; I'm completely normal, to the point of being boring." He'd known he was risking being bombarded with the list of his quirks, but it had been some time since he'd seen the big smile she was wearing. She had put on a brave front in public, but Lorelei had been mostly down since her father's birthday party.

"Are you kidding?" she'd shot back, taking a seat on the arm of the chair he'd settled into. "If you didn't already have three middle names, I'd say 'Quirky' should be added to your monogram." She'd grabbed a handful of his long hair and twitched the ends against his nose as proof.

"Would you prefer I cut it all off?" he'd asked mildly.

Her brow creased and she shook her head. "It simply wouldn't be you. Besides, the hair and beard drive my mother crazy – a fact that I love. And I'm not complaining. I'm quite fond of your quirks, so don't change them, please."

The mention of her mother, though, had made Albus wonder. "Lorelei, do you – do you sometimes wish you could have your parents' approval? It would be much less uncomfortable for you."

She looked slightly irritated. "Albus, my parents have no taste, so why on Earth would I seek to please them? They thought Grindelwald was a good match for Arabella!"

"We cannot be sure that's what they thought at any point," he'd reminded her. "Perhaps if they were free to express their true opinions, they wouldn't have liked him at all."

"Albus, I know you sincerely worry about my relationship with my family, but don't forget, I grew up there. I know that the control he has on them is recent – what you saw before of them was their real, tasteless dispositions. My parents thought it was all right to berate squibs right in front of their own squib-daughter! If my mother was herself and you shaved every whisker and gave yourself a crewcut, she would still find something to dislike about you, just to irritate me. Nothing would make her warm to you either – not once she's decided to be contrary. You're not my first beau, Albus. She didn't like any of them for one reason or another. In some cases she turned out to be right, in others she caused the rifts that ended things. Most often, she just disapproved of anyone I liked. But nothing she could say or do would change how I feel about _you_, so there's no point altering yourself, unless you just want to irritate _me_." Her face was set in her most stubborn expression – the same one she wore when she argued about elf rights with the other faculty members, or when she had told Horace that the quality of a life was not directly proportionate to how well-known they became. Albus couldn't help but smile. He supposed that was one of her quirks that _he _found endearing.

"Why are you grinning at me like that?" Lorelei asked.

"You've eloquently defended me to me," he had answered, then promptly laughed at the absurdity of it.

She smirked. "When you put it like that, it sounds kind of silly, doesn't it?" She laughed too and slid from the arm of the chair into his lap, hardly noticing as Hagrid chased after some pet he'd brought in. Hagrid was now so large that any pursuit became a haphazard attempt to not knock things down. Albus and Lorelei had managed to distract each other from the chase sufficiently, until the niffler climbed up between them sniffing wildly at the inner pockets of Albus' robes.

"Hagrid!" Albus called after he'd paralyzed it. "Nifflers should not be inside the castle. If they went after the headmaster's trinkets, I'd be hard-pressed to convince him to let you continue staying with me.

Hagrid mumbled, "Sorry," as he came to retrieve the creature. Hagrid pried the small box from the niffler's frozen jaws and handed it back to Albus with a penitent expression.

"What's this?" Lorelei asked, touching the mangled package.

"Take it outside, please," Albus directed Hagrid, releasing the niffler with the flick of his wand. He waited until Hagrid disappeared out the doorway before addressing Lorelei's question. "It was a gift for later. I was waiting for a private moment I suppose, or perhaps some assurance that this was what you wanted."

Her eyes locked on the mangled package and she blinked slowly. Her hand reached cautiously toward the small box as though he might pull it away. He let her take it, wondering what she'd say or if she already understood what was inside. She removed the partially ripped paper and opened the protective box to stare at the ring inside. That brief pause was all the hesitation there was. She pulled the ring out and slid it onto her finger in one fluid motion. "Guess we'll be changing my monogram," she said with a smouldering look.

The bit of bliss that was the morning disappeared in a blink. The two had stayed briefly for festivities at Hogwarts, with plans to visit Nicholas, Perenelle, Minerva, Howard and Nate. Those were upended by the owl that landed in front of Lorelei at dinner.

_- Dear Lory,_

_-_

_- I woke up this morning and don't know how I've come to be here. I cannot _

_- remember anything since Summer. I'm frightened. I hid with Lolly in the _

_- basement, but he will find me, I know it. I need help._

_- Bella_

Albus knew it was a trap and told Lorelei as much, reminding her of the orders she'd given Lolly and that Lolly would have come to her immediately. The direct order meant that Lolly did not have a choice, and her magic was different enough that she could apparate into Hogwarts if she so chose. Lorelei could not be dissuaded though and he couldn't let her go alone.

The pair had chosen to apparate to Manchester and hurried to the edge of Hogwarts with that purpose in mind, having only taken enough time to notify Nicholas of their plans and to double protections on the school in case it was the point to lure them out. Albus might have tried to convince Dippet to do it, but it seemed a fruitless effort, despite the fact that rumors of Grindelwald's shady side were beginning to spread.

Albus had used his most powerful disillusionment charm on the pair of them and they had approached the home in Manchester with great caution and wands at the ready, looking for some sign of what was to come.

The spells that had been placed on the home were numerous and quite strong. Once again, no fidelius charm had been used and Albus found that fact slightly hopeful. Perhaps Grindelwald had a few limits to the scope of his power. No sooner had the thought formed in his mind then a purple shot of light flew right at them.

Albus quickly deflected it, sending his own paralyzing spell in the direction whence it had come, but the sender had disapparated. Albus pointed his wand toward the garden, hoping to find a few gnomes still hanging about. At his summoning spell, two of the tiny creatures flew through the air, landing softly in front of him. Albus didn't take time to think it through. He transfigured the pair into manticores. "That should provide adequate distraction," he remarked, before grasping Lorelei's arm and turning swiftly in side-along apparition to keep the pair of them together.

They landed smoothly on the roof of the home, just over the east eave – a spot where a much younger Lorelei had often scrambled to via her bedroom window when she'd needed privacy. Albus didn't expect it to be easy to gain entrance, especially as Grindelwald already knew they were there. He tested for spells and found several sealing all exits. Luckily, his own prodigious skills could disarm them _if_ he had enough time.

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Sorry for the cliffy, it just turned out that way. More soon! I promise!


	14. Chapter 14 Battle at Manchester

_Disclaimer: Based on the work of JK Rowling, the goddess of YA. Please don't sue._

**Chapter 14 – Battle at Manchester**

Albus recalled that Lorelei had stayed abnormally silent as they stood atop the roof of the Manchester house that Christmas day. He had taken advantage of the silence, working to break the numerous spells that had been placed there. Below them, they could hear shouts, cries and roars, and Albus glanced once to see who was doing the fighting. He could see five wizards, all who were probably loyal to Grindelwald. He turned his glance to Lorelei and realized she was staring at him, looking slightly frightened, though he wasn't immediately sure if she was afraid of the situation or of what he had done.

As if responding to his thoughts she managed, "Ma -- manticores are very dangerous, Albus."

"Yes, I am aware of that fact, Lorelei. But however much they seem like manticores, they are gnomes, capable only of the same sentience as a gnome, as well as the same mischievous behavior. I might have preferred allies of a different sort, but there simply wasn't time. As you know, gnomes are nearly impossible to injure with a wand; they're resistant to magic for the most part, and probably will not suffer any for their adventure, though I promise I do not plan to leave them in that form." He did not point out that his own ability to transfigure the creatures showed their vulnerability under the right circumstances and magical prowess. He was worried for the creatures because he was generally very fond of gnomes, but the desperate nature of the situation had left him little choice. Albus turned his attention back to his charm-breaking, flicking his wand at the last of the enchantments to disable it.

"That's – it's just -- how powerful are you, Albus?" Lorelei floundered after a long pause. It was a question she had never asked before that moment, and in all their time together, it had never before been an issue.

He searched her face once, trying to decide if she was more afraid of Grindelwald or him. "The most powerful wizard is only as strong as the knowledge with which he has armed himself. I am a professor of transfiguration, Lorelei, and I am still a student at heart. Come, we need to make haste!" The two swung themselves carefully into the window and proceeded through the room they had entered. Albus forced himself not to dwell on her words or to wonder if his answer had appeased her, as they walked cautiously down the adjoining hall. Years before, when he had been a headstrong boy and full of himself, he had destroyed many friendships with conceit. It had taken years to understand the price of his lack of humility, and many more still until he had become humbled enough to understand that powerful though he was, he could be destroyed by a mere child if the circumstances were right. While the ambitious youth in him had wanted to someday be the greatest wizard in the world, the mature man understood that greatness was an illusion weighed on a faulty scale.

"Lolly?" Lorelei spoke into the air suddenly. There was a very loud _crack_ and Lolly appeared. She was huddled in a tight ball as if she had been hiding when Lorelei had called her.

"Lolly!" Lorelei gasped her relief. "Do you know where Arabella is?"

Confused by the disillusionment spell, Lolly looked around and finally answered her unseen mistress while staring in the wrong direction. "She be out of it Miss! Sleepin' in her old room."

"If she was in danger, you were supposed to bring her to me!" Lorelei scolded, wringing her hands.

"She's not in danger, miss; only sleeping," the house-elf replied.

Lorelei whirled and began to walk the other direction, turning once to Lolly to say, "Stay close, Lolly!" She did not say anything to Albus, or even make eye contact with him. He supposed they would have to discuss his cryptic answer when the opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, however, he matched her pace and continued to stay on his guard.

"Lolly, it would be very helpful if you would render yourself invisible," Albus suggested. Lolly complied immediately, disappearing soundlessly. Albus knew she was close by, though the traces of her magic were so minute, he could barely sense her at all.

They traveled silently through the corridors to Arabella's locked door; a quick flick of Albus' wand opened it soundlessly. But what greeted them was a blast of blue light that Albus barely deflected in time.

"Wait, wait, wait," Elijah interrupted, pulling Albus back from reminiscing. "He lured you there at Christmas and attacked you. Why?"

"We believe that he had become convinced that George had shared the secret of whatever he had wanted to show us in that warehouse," Nicholas explained. "He knew that Albus would protect Lorelei and he suspected that Lorelei would come for her sister. Her mere presence at that house confirmed that suspicion, but we don't think Grindelwald had expected to come so close to losing everything."

"Everything?" Elijah repeated skeptically.

"Would you like me to continue?" Albus asked patiently.

"Be my guest," Elijah answered tartly. Nicholas furrowed his brow, but did not explain the look of concern.

"As I was saying," Albus began again, "We were met by a blast of magic. Judging by the color, it was a broad spectrum paralyzing spell – he obviously did not want to kill us at that point."

"He wanted something," Nicholas translated. Elijah only sighed impatiently.

Albus recounted how he and Lorelei had immediately gone on the offensive. Lorelei had shouted "Stupefy!" aiming her wand around the corner of the doorway as Albus sent "victusflamma" silently into the room, the fiery rope reaching to trap any human it could contact. It did not have the effect he had hoped for though. It seemed Grindelwald had been well prepared for Albus' favorite spells.

A loud _pop _echoed through the air, and brilliant light shown in a stream around the corner of the room. Albus had barely grabbed Lorelei in time, spinning quickly to disapparate and reappearing on the other side of the hallway. Protection spells on the room had kept them from actually apparating inside, though Albus was working to disarm them. He had felt a little foolish, not knowing if Arabella was actually still present at all, or if she was even alive, given the fact that Lolly had said she was sleeping. It had occurred to him that Lolly might have misjudged the level of danger, and that Arabella's sleep may have been induced.

The moment Albus had felt the magical protection evaporate inside the bedroom, Albus turned to disapparate, this time leaving Lorelei behind in case it was the wrong decision. But she was perfectly capable of independent apparition, and he found himself standing beside her in an empty bedroom. The narrow, canopied bed was empty, though wrinkled bed clothes and a large pillow with a concave impression showed that someone had been in it recently. It might have been a muggle child's bedroom for its contents: a collection of porcelain dolls in fancy dresses, a miniature china tea set, a fine silver hand mirror, comb, and brush on a vanity devoid of makeup or perfume. The only sign of any older inhabitant was a long, yellow dressing gown hanging from a coat hook on the wall. Grindelwald had vacated the room, and if Arabella was present, he'd taken her with him.

Frustrated, Lorelei had let out an angry sound that almost resembled a growl. "He's playing with us!" she added afterward. "He's had time to spell this house anyway he wants to, and we're like the mice in a maze!" She twitched her wand in her blond pin-curls as she considered their options, or at least that was what he had assumed she'd been doing. It certainly was how he had spent those moments. "Lolly, find Arabella and don't let them see you!" She ordered finally. They didn't see the house elf, but a loud _crack_ announced her exodus. "Albus, have you any ideas?"

"Follow the magic," he'd answered softly. "My guess is that he will be surrounded by the strongest concentration of magic we can sense. But we only need Arabella for now. Hardly anyone believes us about Grindelwald. If we can find proof to hand them, it will help. If not, I think we should simply retrieve Arabella and leave so that he cannot use her as bait again."

"Agreed," she'd responded, finally meeting his eyes. She smiled fleetingly and it was enough to reassure him.

Albus then turned in a full circle, reaching with his senses to find the largest concentration of magic. But it had been a foolhardy decision to stay in one place so long. Several consecutive _pops_ announced the arrival of Grindelwald and three subordinates. Albus recognized only one – Hans Vandenhoff – the man they'd seen wearing a Nazi uniform during the original dinner party. If he had been alone, Albus might simply have disapparated. But Lorelei was too far away to grasp, and had not moved to leave on her own. And then a momentary flash of silver light told Albus he'd have to break another disapparation charm on the room if he wanted to leave it.

Several stunning spells flew at them, blocked by Albus' quick wand work. He'd once again unleashed his fiery rope, pinning Vandenhoff and another man. Grindelwald had released them with the counterspell and Albus knew he'd have to come up with something less predictable.

He turned his wand at the porcelain dolls, enlarging them and transfiguring them to move, all while Lorelei tried "Impedimenta" against their attackers. Grindelwald's men continued to attempt numerous charms and hexes, most of which were deflected by shield charms. The next stunner aimed at Albus and Lorelei was blocked by a large doll with long brown hair. Her face was blown away, and the smiling lips landed absurdly at their feet while the enlarged toy continued to move toward the unfamiliar man at Grindelwald's left. Albus added an unbreakable charm to the others, fortifying them against the attacks. He watched, amused, as the wizards tried unsuccessfully to immobilize the advancing porcelain girls.

"Accio wand!" Lorelei shouted. It was usually impossible to separate a wizard from his wand in this way, but she must have caught the man off guard, as Vandenhoff's wand flew to her hand. Holding a wand in each hand, she aimed stunners in two directions, though only one hit its mark. Albus had felt himself smile, seeing a prime example of why Lorelei had been taken into Ravenclaw house during her Hogwarts education. He aimed his own spells at Grindelwald: a powerful shield breaker charm and bone-splintering hex. The first caught the dark wizard by surprise but he recovered quickly, conjuring a shimmering shield that caused the bone-splinter spell to bounce back at them. One of the transfigured dolls caught the brunt of it and shattered into tiny shards. A flick of Albus' wand gathered the flying shrapnel and hurtled it back at Grindelwald. While his opponent again shielded himself, Albus took the opportunity to place a paralyzing hex on his shortest companion. Unlike the stunners, this spell would not easily be removed, and he hoped it would slow them down.

"Fervidus Aguamenti!" Lorelei shouted. Boiling water erupted from her wand, hitting Grindelwald's taller companion in the face as he materialized to a new point in the room; he'd apparently disapparated, but she'd either guessed or felt his destination. The man screamed in agony and Albus was impressed. It had been an ingenious choice. He sent another paralyzing hex at that man, and summoned his wand simultaneously. Grindelwald was then alone in his fight.

Lorelei tried to use her boiling water spell on Grindelwald, but the man froze it instantly. Then darts erupted from the end of his wand, hurtling toward Lorelei. Albus turned them around, sending them back at Grindelwald with enormous speed. Grindelwald turned quickly to disapparate, having forgotten his own anti-apparation jinx; then, realizing his folly, ducked, but still caught the majority of the shrapnel in the face.

Lorelei rushed toward him and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" His wand flew from his hand out of his reach. "Where's my sister?" she demanded, holding her wand menacingly at his heart.

"You don't have the stomach to kill me," he'd snapped.

"You've entrapped my sister, manipulated my parents, and killed my brother – don't test me!" she roared. In that instant they could have destroyed him, if only either had chosen to do so. But it was then that Lolly appeared, magically levitating Arabella, who was unconscious. A simple distraction was all it took and Grindelwald's wand soared back into his hand. Albus had enough time to send a heart-stopping hex, but hesitated, unwilling to simply murder the man, who was no longer threatening him. A whispered incantation released the anti-apparition jinx on the room and Grindelwald spun in a whirl of robes and disappeared.

"But after all he had already done?" Elijah cried in disbelief. "I would not have thought twice about sending him to his grave!"

"I berated myself to Lorelei as we gathered Arabella and Lolly and vacated the premises. We did stop long enough check on the gnomes, both of whom had been killed. It added to my guilt, and we discussed the situation between ourselves and with Nicholas and Perenelle. No one regrets my failings more than I, especially now," Albus admitted, for if he had killed Grindelwald then, Lorelei would be alive now, as would countless others. Albus doubted there would ever be a time that he didn't regret his inaction. And he was suffering for it with a pain so strong, he felt he would bleed to death of it.

----

Please review. I need feedback – even if it's just to tell you me you hate it (though reasons why would be nice)


	15. Chapter 15 The Compass of Culpability

_**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it is the work of JK Rowling. If it's new, it's mine. Please don't compare us, I hardly measure up.**_

_A/N: This chapter does not contain the action of the last, but it's pivotal._

_And now..._

**Chapter 15 – The Compass of Culpability**

For a while, Elijah did little more than seethe. Albus couldn't blame him, especially now. After the fight with Grindelwald, the dark wizard must have believed he'd been discovered by all. Subsequent murders were sloppier and numerous. Grindelwald had gone on a killing spree that had convinced the wizarding world that he was evil. He had enough supporters that there was reason to be afraid. Grindelwald and his followers did not discriminate much in who they killed, although their support of the Nazis seemed to have disintegrated; repeated victories by the allied forces was testament to that. However, Wizards were being hunted and killed in horrifying ways, their bodies marked with an othala rune symbol which was charmed to destroy anyone who tried to remove it.

At last Elijah seemed able to speak, though his tone was accusatory and his eyes flashed dangerously. "So the pair of you skipped off to safety with Arabella, I assume?"

"Elijah, mind your manners," Nicholas warned. "The ministry does not generally approve of vigilantism. If Albus had killed Grindelwald at that time, you would have attempted to arrest him and considered him a murderer and Grindelwald his helpless victim." Nicholas' tone also carried bite and Albus almost felt that he didn't deserve defending.

"Is Arabella hiding with you then?" Elijah asked.

Nicholas opened his mouth to respond, but Albus stopped him. "Grindelwald has proven himself amazingly capable of forcing victims to provide information they'd previously sworn not to divulge. For that reason, we feel it is best if few people know the location of certain individuals, including Arabella."

Angrily, Elijah lurched to his feet, knocking the table over in his haste for the second time that evening. "Are you accusing me of being a pawn for Grindelwald? I'm not the one who let him escape!"

Instantly Nicholas was on his feet as well, matching Elijah's unreasonable volume with his own. "You will calm yourself, Elijah! If you make one more accusation against my friend, I will take him home to grieve and leave you to sort this out alone!"

Elijah backed off, but he did not look happy about it. Albus watched the exchange with mixed emotions. He was suffering guilt for the decisions he'd made; it might have been the all-consuming emotion had Lorelei not told him over and over that he had done the right thing on Christmas day. Faced with evidence to the contrary, he still could not allow her to have been wrong. At the moment he could not see her as anything less than perfect in every regard. Albus was not new to grief; he could reason that this was the denial stage – some small part of him believing that if she could not have been wrong then something could resurrect her. It defied logic, but then, where there is love, logic does not reign supreme.

Within in a heartbeat he was there again, his mind having drifted back four and a half months prior, to that fateful Christmas Night. He and Lorelei had disapparated to the area outside of Hogwarts with their two guests in tow. They walked in silence onto the grounds of Hogwarts, Lorelei melting the snow with her wand to make the trek easier while Albus levitated Arabella. The plan was to let Katherine McGregor look over Arabella. Katherine had grown to be a good friend and was very trustworthy. She also was a talented healer that Hogwarts was lucky to have. At that point they had had no idea how Arabella would react when she awakened. They had been counting on distance to break Grindelwald's mind control. However, they believed that if her reaction was anything like Lolly's, the situation might grow difficult.

Lolly had spent most of the trek muttering to herself. She could have popped into Hogwarts and waited in the warm castle, since house elves were not limited by the same constraints put on humans. Perhaps this was part of the self-punishing she seemed driven to undergo. "House elves is not supposed to leave like this," she worried in an undertone. "They is not, they is not. Lolly should be serving her family in their house, oh yes."

"Lolly, am I not your family?" Lorelei had asked in a weary tone.

"Yes, Miss Lorelei, you is," the tiny creature had responded.

"Is Arabella your family?" Lorelei had pressed.

"Oh yes, Miss Arabella is family to Lolly."

"Then you are with your family at their new home, correct?" Lorelei had stated.

Lolly looked both confused and hopeful. She finally nodded.

"We should have reduced that house to ashes, it would have saved on confusion," Albus had remarked. He was mostly kidding, though already wondering if he'd done the right thing by letting Grindelwald go.

"Albus, that is my sister's home now. I'm hoping that after Grindelwald is caught and put in Azkaban, that she can go back and have a reasonably normal life there," Lorelei had said in that same weary tone she'd used with Lolly.

"If I had finished him when I had the chance..." Albus had begun.

"Then you'd go to Azkaban," Lorelei had interrupted. "Fine thing to have my husband in Azkaban before I get to enjoy being married to him properly."

He'd looked up at her sharply. After her reaction to his display of magic in Manchester, he had half expected her to return his ring. He supposed that insecurity with regard to relationships was something one never outgrew, no matter their age. "You – you don't think it was a mistake then?" he'd stuttered slightly in a most uncharacteristic fashion – feeling once more that Lorelei had somehow reduced him to a blithering teenager.

"Which part?" she'd questioned, with a smile that made him wonder if she could read him so easily. Lorelei was not a legilimens like he, though her empathic nature sometimes astounded him.

"I could have destroyed him – the opportunity was there and I did not take it," Albus had admitted.

"Neither did I, if you notice," she countered, moving closer to him in the chill air. She snorted slightly and lifted her hazel eyes to meet his. Her cheeks were pink from the exposure and her lips looked slightly chapped. "Albus, what kind of man does it take to make good people contemplate murder? That is what it would have been at that moment when he'd lost his wand. What kind of man is he, when he is capable of doing terrible things, of manipulating kind people into cold behavior, or killing those we love so easily? I know he did not give Liam a chance to escape. My brother was a very capable wizard and yet his body was found without his wand. There's part of me that wants vengeance, yes, but I do not want to be reduced to his level to get it. If I kill Grindelwald, it will be in a fair fight."

"But how many more will suffer for my inaction?" he had asked almost prophetically.

"You cannot think like that, Albus. It is our morality that makes us who we are. Mercy is a great power, one of the greatest in my opinion. It is a power Grindelwald will never know." She'd stopped and chuckled slightly at herself. "Listen to me, will you? I'm preaching."

They had reached the great hall then, stamping their boots automatically to shake the last of the winter powder. "I don't think Arabella can hide here for long," Lorelei had observed, "But I don't think she will be safe with Nicholas either."

"I have another place for her," Albus had replied. "But for now, we need to take her to Katherine."

The Albus of the present realized that Elijah had asked him a question. Lost in his memories, Albus had completely missed it.

"We've already told you he didn't," Nicholas answered for him. "Whatever message George had to deliver, it died with him."

"That just doesn't make any sense though," Elijah countered, his voice still gruff. Then he spoke as if it had been Albus he'd been conversing with all along, and he didn't make eye contact with Nicholas. "The way you describe the events, it sounds like Grindelwald thought you had something of value. If it was just to shut you up, he would have killed you outright. If he wanted to find out who you had shared information with, he would have separated the pair of you. It sounds like he never even attempted. That leads me to believe he was after something physical – a magical object or perhaps documentation of some kind."

"The aforementioned notes?" Nicholas guessed, though Elijah did not acknowledge him.

Albus had to agree that Elijah's logic was flawless and he concentrated on the events of the evening. "George's message was delivered via a pair of spelled mirrors. He said he had to show us something, but he did not say what it was. Obviously he did not give me something physically. George had been killed at least an hour before we had arrived, so I would hardly be in possession of something he had on his person. I would assume if such an object exists, his murderer took it."

"Is it possible that Lorelei had something she was unaware of?" Elijah further pressed. He was finally calm enough to sit. He righted the table that had been overturned earlier and took his seat again. Albus had not seen the bar owner return to the room, despite the noise of the table hitting the floor. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with the volatile behavior of the three wizards. Elijah retrieved his wand and cleaned up the drinks that had been spilled with a barely audible, "Evanesco."

"I do not believe so. Her contact with George was limited. If your suspicions are correct, then I think it more likely that George hid whatever Grindelwald was after, and that no one has found it yet," Albus conjectured.

"Now, the trap..." Elijah cued.

"Ahh yes, the trap." Albus took a deep breath. "When Grindelwald began to show his true nature, we were forced to recognize that his magical abilities are very great. As you know many of the worst murders were carried out by those who claim to be innocent. We may have a terrible time sorting out who actually supported Grindelwald and who was under a spell." Nicholas nodded agreement.

"There are wizards capable of reading that," Elijah replied dismissively.

"In March, Grindelwald attempted to attack Minerva McGonnagall as she entered the ministry to be interviewed by the aurors," Albus started.

"Yes, yes, I know," Elijah said impatiently.

"Are you aware of how?" Nicholas questioned, staring at Elijah with a look of dislike that Albus had not expected.

"Attacked a member of the unspeakables – Billingsly -- who was supposedly confunded," Elijah snapped. "I hadn't believed it at the time, but the Ministry was sure."

"He was far more than confunded, something we might not have known, had it not been for the project that Levi Billingsly was working on," Albus pointed out.

"The compass of culpability," Elijah stated with wonder.

"Correct!" Nicholas smiled again. "Levi would most certainly have been arrested, had he not been holding that compass, which pointed away from him, indicating that he was not guilty of what he'd been charged with. It's what gave us the idea."

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_Please respond. Please, please, please, please? My bot level is dangerously low, so I need a bot infusion._


	16. Chapter 16 Puppet

Disclaimer: Oh if only I were JK Rowling, but I'm not. Like, duh!

**Chapter 16 – Puppet**

Elijah watched Albus and Nicholas expectantly, his barely disguised eagerness to hear the details of the trap evident.

"We kept thinking how amazingly lucky it had been that Levi was holding that compass, and that he had spent enough time working with it that it registered his innocence," Nicholas said. "We discussed it at length, once Minerva had returned safely to us."

"The compass is a powerfully magical artifact, created by Merlin himself," Albus told Elijah. "Naturally, the Ministry was angry that it had been removed from the Department of Mysteries, and they had no intention of letting it out of their sight again." In fact it was a valuable prognosticator of the holder's innocence or guilt, if the holder had fine-tuned it to himself. Albus was not sure why the Department of Mysteries was researching the exquisite silver compass, though if they ever determined how to use it effectively on a regular basis, it might be the perfect way to adjudicate those accused of a crime. It was also said to seek out evil, though no one had ever proven whether that was myth or fact.

Elijah nodded enthusiastically, pressing his mouth together so tightly that his lips appeared to pale; it made Albus wonder if the man was forcing himself to remain silent. It was something Albus had seen Minerva McGonnagall do on several occasions, and she had once stated that was her motive. Minerva had worn that expression on the March evening when they had sat pouring over events that had taken place earlier in the day.

"Imagine!" Nicholas had said, eyes bright as he considered the compass, once the girl's whole story had been relayed. "That close to an artifact of Merlin himself. Oh, what I wouldn't give to examine it! It must be a marvelous working. In all my studies, I've never seen the spell to create it, though I imagine it could be done."

"New project?" Perenelle had questioned with one thin eyebrow raised. She looked slightly amused at the thought as she sat in the porch swing, brushing her long white hair. It had been an unusually mild day and it was the first warm enough night for the elderly couple to sit out on their porch – something they dearly loved to do. Albus, Lorelei, Minerva and Nate had joined them. Howard Dawlish had stayed in London, taking advantage of the Ministry escort to visit family he had not seen in many months. Hagrid was safely back at Hogwarts, being overseen by Ogg.

"My dear, you are far too confident with regard to my skills," Nicholas had teased, patting his wife's hand affectionately.

"I doubt that," Albus had remarked. "You are an extraordinary wizard, Nicholas. If there is anyone capable of figuring out the compass, it is you." He was the only person in recorded history to figure out how to make the philosopher's stone, though legend suggested it had existed before that.

Lorelei snorted slightly, "Present company excluded?" she asked, eyeing him. She was seated in a carved wooden rocker adjacent to the porch swing, and directly across from where Minerva was perched on the railing. The two women grinned at one another, before Lorelei returned her gaze to her magical knitting, a hobby she had picked up from Perenelle. Albus could remember thinking at the time that the pattern must have been incorrectly spelled; the project she was working on resembled the toe of a sock, though it looked too small even for Lolly. In retrospect, it had been a foolish assumption.

Minerva had folded her arms across her chest as she glanced up at the night sky. "It would be a very handy thing to have – that compass. I wish you could make another, or at least something similar, able to track Grindelwald's spells and record them. After all this time, I'm beginning to wonder if the Ministry will ever catch him." Perhaps it had been only a passing comment, though Albus' mind had suddenly clicked and he had begun to believe something just as effective was possible, provided Grindelwald had it on his person.

"Imagine," Albus had suggested, "If one could charm an object so that it did record each use of magic aimed at another human being. It might be able to then emit an echo similar to that of Prior Incantato, divulging Grindelwald's activities." His mind instantly began to process possible enchantments to achieve that end.

"The charmed object would have to be on his person though, and how would you ever convince him to wear a magically spelled item?" Nicholas had responded, leaning forward slightly and causing the swing to cease its motion. Albus recognized the signs as Nicholas, too, began to pore over possibilities. He knew then that they would attempt to create something.

That was when the expression had touched Minerva's face – her mouth pinned in a thin, pale line as she listened. She'd remained abnormally quiet while Albus and Nicholas discussed the theory of such a magical working, later admitting that she was afraid she'd halt their creative flow. Nate had thrown in his own ideas and Lorelei and Perenelle made little jokes about how unlikely they were to see either man in the coming weeks.

They had determined a lot of what they felt would be needed to make the spell successful right there on that porch, and the final ingredient had been recommended by Minerva herself. "Will you be brewing an incognus potion to coat the charm and hide its true nature from Grindelwald then?"

Albus had looked up at her and smiled. "That would be a fine addition," he stated.

"Brilliant!" Nate had praised.

"Incognus potions have a ghastly smell," Lorelei had observed. "I hope you will not impose that concoction on Perenelle's lovely home."

Nicholas had chuckled slightly. "That's why she has me keep my laboratory in another city, Lorelei. Have I never told you that when Perenelle and I met, I had strange, greasy fur growing on the walls of my home? It's been so many years now I can't even tell you what experiment went awry. I do remember the fur though and that she stubbornly refused experimentation within our home." He had patted her hand again at that point.

Perenelle leaned forward toward Lorelei as if confiding a secret, her eyes twinkling. "Remember that, my dear. The key to a happy marriage is keeping your man's magical accidents in another geographical location."

Most of the group had laughed and Albus had watched Lorelei glance at the engagement ring on her hand. She had wanted to wait to be married until her family was released from Grindelwald's spell, though the plan had been revised later for another reason. Now barely two weeks from the date in which they were to be married, she had been killed. He felt the sorrow build in him again and he was too weary to hold it off much longer.

"So you found a way to charm something to reveal the spells used against another person," Elijah remarked. "Clever. I assume it is something he's wearing or which he regularly has with him."

Albus looked up at Elijah, for the first time that evening actually searching the auror's eyes. He had been so consumed by grief that he had not realized all the signs he was seeing, until he suddenly became aware that he could not read Elijah, despite the fact that Elijah was not an adept occlumens. On past meetings with Elijah, Albus had always been able to read him. It had been a foolish mistake. And though whoever was controlling him had played the part well, it was just that -- play acting.

Albus reached for his wand hurriedly, just as Nicholas opened his mouth to speak. It seemed strange to cast the silencing spell against his oldest friend, but it was necessary. Turning his wand at Elijah, a second too late, he was met by a blasting spell that knocked him off his feet and propelled Nicholas into the ancient bar.

A flick of Albus' wand sent a shot of fiery rope at Elijah, even as he transfigured Elijah's chair to make it mobile and attack Elijah from the other side. Elijah spun, disapparating from his spot and reappearing behind the magically protected bar, leaving him free to blast the others with his wand while providing him the ancient furnishing to duck behind.

Albus countered spell after spell, the urgency of the fight driving his grief temporarily from his mind. He kept looking around for Grindelwald, expecting the elder wizard to appear to finish him. Elijah had not been able to discover what item had been spelled, though Albus imagined that Grindelwald would just replace every item he wore. It made it that much more imperative that Albus just finish the evil man, and deal with the repercussions later.

Elijah began to employ dark spells the likes of which Albus had only read about. Between himself and Nicholas they managed to block most of them, however they were thwarted from apparating behind Elijah. It seemed almost strange to think that one man could fend off two highly talented wizards, and yet, there it was. Albus supposed that it was exacerbated by injury, shock, and exhaustion.

Nicholas tried once more to disapparate, only to be hit with a powerful jinx that left a gash in his shoulder and knocked his feet out from under him. He stood shakily and was hit full force with a purple blast of light before Albus could intervene. Enraged, Albus attacked, momentarily forgetting that Elijah was being forced to do what he was doing. Only when the bone-splintering hex met its mark, severing and shattering Elijah's leg mid-thigh, did Albus come to his senses. By then it was too late to undo what he'd done. Elijah hung limp in midair for a moment, a puppet having been released by the puppeteer. He cried in excruciating pain as his own personality returned, and then he collapsed against the hard wood floor. Albus lifted the firewhiskey glass, tilting his wand at it and murmuring, "Portus". He levitated Nicholas and lowered him next to Elijah. Then he crouched between both, clutching two wrists in one hand just before the portkey pulled the whole group to St. Mungos.


	17. Chapter 17 St Mungo's

Disclaimer: Aww, you know already. Blah, blah, blah, don't sue, blah, blah

_A/N: It's a short chapter, I know, but I couldn't launch into anything more without a huge chapter, so there you go._

_And now..._

Chapter 17 – St. Mungo's

Albus was seated at Nicholas' bedside in Saint Mungo's Hospital when Perenelle, Minerva, Nate and Howard arrived. He had been keeping a vigil over both Nicholas and Elijah, who had been placed in the short-term care ward on the fourth floor. Albus imagined that Magical Law Enforcement would not be far behind. He had contacted them as well, though admittedly, he had done so after he'd contacted Nicholas and Elijah's family. So far, no one in Elijah's family had appeared and Albus was not certain how to take that.

Perenelle raced to the bedside, faster than Albus could ever have imagined a woman of her years moving. "Ohh, Nicholas!" she cried, as she surveyed her unconscious husband. He would recover, of course; of that Albus had been assured by the healers. However, he would require several potions and close care for a week, approximately, but there would be no lasting damage to mind or body.

Albus immediately relinquished his chair, drawing another one up next to Elijah, who _had_ suffered permanent damage. His leg had been so completely destroyed that no amount of skel-o-grow would repair what had been lost. He was permanently handicapped, and Albus had cast the spell that did the damage. The healers had given Elijah a sleeping draft, and it had rendered him unconscious as well.

"Albus, what has taken place this evening? You told us nothing of Lorelei or how this happened?" Perenelle said in a soft, but demanding tone as she stroked her husband's hair. Albus noticed her hand was shaking slightly, and he felt a pang that there was no one left who held that type of regard for him.

"Lorelei – Lorelei is..." he didn't want to say it aloud. There was little point in denying it now, and yet part of him still wanted to do so. He put his face in his hands and wept, ignoring the numerous spectators and the fact that the Magical Law Enforcement was due at any moment. He felt arms enfold him, but did not look up to see who. He only knew it was a woman and that her soft skin and satiny robe could so easily become Lorelei's to his devastated heart; for a moment he allowed himself to believe it was her -- that she wasn't dead. It did help him control the waves of sorrow slightly, and the tears slowed, though did not cease entirely.

"I'm so, so sorry," a voice with a light Scottish accent said in his ear. "She will be sorely missed." He felt Minerva's breathing grow slightly rougher; she was crying as well. Minerva and Lorelei had become close friends; Lorelei was gifted in that regard and made friends so easily.

Albus pulled from Minerva's embrace and turned his attention back to the rest of the group. "Grindelwald or one of his loyal followers was controlling Elijah, but I'm uncertain for how long. I never saw Grindelwald again after the fight that killed Lorelei, and I was not myself, or I might have noticed sooner that Elijah was not himself."

"Did Elijah do this?" Perenelle asked, gesturing toward her unconscious husband.

"Yes, though not of his own free will," Albus replied.

"And Elijah's injury, was that your work?" Howard asked. "I mean, his leg is gone!"

"Yes, Howard, I am entirely responsible for that," Albus responded. He didn't defend himself. He would have preferred not to have inflicted permanent damage, and he could see by the young man's expression that his actions would not be easily accepted anyway.

"Then I'd like you to give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you in Azkaban for life!" a voice said from the door. Albus looked up into the angry face of Bartemius Crouch. He was accompanied by two young Aurors, Leonard Brennan and Timothy McCleary, both of whom Albus had taught transfiguration. McCleary automatically leveled his wand at Albus warningly, though his hand shook violently.

There were good reasons that Albus should not be sent to Azkaban, though at the moment, he could not think of any. What he knew was that the trap had failed, Lorelei was dead, Nicholas was unconscious and would remain so for days, and Elijah would never stand on his own two feet again. Minerva stepped between Crouch and Albus, and Nate joined her shortly, both of them holding their wands threateningly. But it was the weak voice of Elijah that provided the reason. "Because he did only what he had to do, Sir. I was being controlled and doing things I never, ever would have and I attacked him."

Albus looked at Elijah, barely believing that a man could have been so injured and still defend the one who injured him. Certainly he deserved to hold a grudge. "I am sorry, Albus," Elijah added, licking his dry lips and taking a ragged breath.

"Are you – are you in much pain?" Minerva asked him kindly.

"No," he answered, "The healers have seen to that, though I am so very thirsty."

Minerva hurriedly conjured a glass and filled it with water from her wand. Then she helped him to sip. When he finished, Albus interjected, "I'm sorry, Elijah. I wish I could undo what I have done and I..."

"I remember everything," Elijah interrupted. "It's strange – I was there, but completely in another's control, though I do not know his name. But once he reports to his master, if he hasn't already, then your trap will have been destroyed because of me. I didn't shake it – didn't really try. It was – it was a nice feeling.." Eyes filled with shame, Elijah shed a few tears.

"You are not to blame, Elijah," Perenelle reminded, turning fully to face his end of the ward and tilting her head with a sympathetic look. Given the fact that she was worrying about her injured husband, it was a kind admission.

"Were you under control the whole time?" Albus questioned, though he wasn't sure of the reason. He saw Crouch, McCleary, and Brennan move closer. He looked up at each, quickly making eye contact and searching for more under mind control. All three were readable, though Crouch was more difficult. Albus knew that to be normal. Crouch had studied occlumency, though had never mastered it completely.

"No," Elijah answered belatedly. "It was after the fire whiskey arrived. I made eye contact with the bar owner, only it was not Jeffers. They looked so similar that I'm not even sure how long the replacement was hanging around. I opened my mouth to say something, but was never able to. After that I felt a pleasant sensation and was ordered to do things that I just – I just –" he hung his head, breathing heavily and staring despondently at the single lump beneath the blanket.

Albus placed a hand on his shoulder. "Many do not have the power to ignore such curses, Elijah." He followed the man's gaze and felt another rush of horror at his own actions. "And again, I am so, so sorry for what I have done to you." He knew he probably sounded foolish, repeatedly apologizing, and the words could not make up for the permanent loss of a limb, but Albus could not stop, such was his remorse.

"I'm alive," Elijah returned, surprisingly philosophical. "I know that with the spells I was compelled to use against you, I'm very lucky to be still breathing. I wish – I wish the trap had not been destroyed though. Is there any stopping it?"

"Without knowing the man who was controlling you, our chances of finding him and stopping him in time are slim. Grindelwald will not know the source of my spells, but he will probably just remove everything from his person and replace it. If he investigates completely, he will sense the incognus potion and find it out."

"If he's the man who killed Jeffers, he will be telling no tales," Leonard Brennan spoke up. "Adam Fullerton, who I have been pursuing for two weeks, was killed twenty minutes ago in Hogsmeade."

Both Elijah and Albus stared. "Brennan did not witness anything involving Fullerton and mind control though," Crouch stated in a business-like tone, eyeing Albus suspiciously.

Albus nodded his understanding. "I have a pensieve in my living quarters at Hogwarts. If we could be sure it is the same man that spelled Elijah, we would know if there's still hope to catch Grindelwald or not."

Ultimately, Crouch agreed to let Albus go, provided Brennan accompanied him. He was only to retrieve the pensieve and return immediately. They made the trip by the floo network, and quickly stepped through into Albus' private rooms, though they did not intend to be there very long at all. Albus had not realized how hard it would be to step into the places that were full of Lorelei's things. He could hear Hagrid's snores from the other room, reminding him of all the people who had yet to learn of her passing. He could smell the lingering lemon-verbena perfume that was Lorelei's favorite scent, and see the touches she had added to the rooms to make them more comfortable.

He rushed to the cupboard and opened it to get the pensieve, forcing himself not to look at Lorelei's knitting and what he knew he'd see there. He grabbed the large, runed basin almost haphazardly, pulling with it two books and a pair of plum-colored socks, that tumbled to the floor.

"Professor Dumbledore," Leonard Brennan began, "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not," he admitted, crouching to pick up the items that had fallen. "I don't know that I shall ever be again."


	18. Chapter 18 In the Laboratory

Disclaimer: Some of the characters, all of the rules of magic, most of the places belong to JK Rowling. The rest came from my twisted brain (isn't that scarey?)

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**Chapter 18 – In the Laboratory  
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It took just moments for Elijah to pull the memory from his mind, drop it in the pensieve and have the likeness of the man who had controlled him displayed. Brennan eyed the miniature projection hovering over the top of the bowl. "That is Adam Fullerton," he confirmed. "Since I confronted him in Hogsmeade and ended up killing him, there's every possibility that he never reported to Grindelwald." His expression was grave before he turned toward Albus. "Can you explain the trap to us?" he asked.

"Forgive me," Albus began. "After coming so close to failure, I prefer not to voice this. I will let you see into my memories so that you know everything that has taken place, but I will not explain this to you. If there were another opportunity for Grindelwald to overhear what I've done, I doubt if we would escape undiscovered." He pointed his wand at his head, pulling the memory from his mind, and dropping the wispy white traces of it into the pensieve bowl. "I will not join you inside. It is too soon for me to relive that battle so completely."

Crouch and Brennan both nodded. Albus took a moment to reach into their thoughts once more through legilimency before allowing each to see what he'd seen. He was surprised at how many wanted to witness these events, including Lorelei's death. He found the thought morbid and distasteful. Ultimately, Crouch, Brennan, and McCleary were joined by Howard, Nate and Perenelle, as each reached, one by one, to touch the milky surface of the memory essence and disappear inside. Minerva stood before Albus with a contrite expression. "Professor, I must see," she said apologetically. "If there is any detail important to our fight, I need to know. I can see that it hurts you. I would stay and not witness this loss, were it no so important to our cause." She fixed her dark eyes upon him and finished, "Forgive me?"

He merely nodded. Then the girl stepped with purpose toward the bowl, turning once to look at him again, before bending and touching the surface, allowing herself to be pulled inside.

A healer walked into the room with a cup in her hand. She asked Elijah to drink the contents and then stood examining him for a moment, before slipping silently from the room.

"She's not big on chatter is she --Healer Delus," Elijah remarking, pointing after her. Albus shook his head and smiled slightly. Elijah was trying so hard to make the situation less uncomfortable. The auror lifted the cup Healer Delus had given him and drank the contents. Then he set the cup on the nightstand.

There was a long silence, finally broken by the younger man. "How much did you give them?" Elijah asked, yawning broadly.

"Everything," Albus answered. "If they stay inside, it will move them without interruption from when Lorelei entered the laboratory, to the point in which I brought you and Nicholas here."

Elijah sighed heavily, a distraught look crossing his face. Albus wanted to ask how he was accepting the loss of a limb so easily, but couldn't find the right words, so he said nothing. The silence stretched painfully.

"It hasn't sunk in, you know?" Elijah offered finally. "I keep looking where there should be two legs covered in blankets, and I can see. Yet I still feel it is still there."

"I'm – It's not -- You should be angry," Albus stumbled. "Certainly you should not be defending me."

"I probably won't tomorrow," Elijah admitted. "For now, I'm much too angry with myself for being so -- so malleable – I can hardly blame another for reacting to _my_ failings."

Albus considered this. He had always thought that Elijah was a good man, and there had been signs that something was wrong, though he had been so lost in shock and sorrow that he had not noticed the warning clues. Worse -- he and Nicholas probably could have taken Elijah into their full confidence much sooner. Would everything have been compromised if they had? Would the whole scenario have played out differently? Would Lorelei be alive?

In truth, everything came down to that. In the thousand alternative scenarios Albus' mind had gone over, that was always that one burning question. He was trying to find some way to undo what had occurred, though he knew it was impossible. And some part of him had avoided the trip through the memory because he wanted to deny her death. But giving a memory to a pensieve did not remove all traces of it from his mind, and he admitted to himself that probably was for the best. As painful as it was, it would not be prudent to forget that Lorelei was dead. He might spend days looking for her, only to be, once again, devastated by her loss.

Albus looked up from his thoughts, only to discover that Elijah had once again drifted off to sleep. In his unconscious state, Elijah's face was smooth and free of worry and regret. Albus watched him sympathetically, hoping that Elijah would forgive himself for being controllable, even if it meant anger directed at Albus; at least Elijah could heal emotionally then, though never physically. And Albus tried for a time not to let himself think about what the others were witnessing – not to let his mind return to the scene that had taken Lorelei from him. He was unsuccessful.

He'd been working in the laboratory in London. It was a strange way to spend a Saturday, and yet he'd spent most weekends of late working on the intense set of spells that made up the trap. Both he and Nicholas had failed in several previous attempts as they worked to get the right combination. That very morning, Nicholas had successfully created a spell recording charm that was undetectable. Added to Albus' own work, the watch was nearly complete. It would record Grindelwald's wand work; allow the group to track Grindelwald, even through a Fidelius Charm; and it would reveal everyone who was in league with Grindelwald of their own accord by projecting what was recorded in a small spelled mirror which lay on the countertop. Albus had prepared the incognus potion and was applying it to the watch, which was a perfect match of the one they had purchased for Lorelei's father and which Grindelwald had taken for himself as a trophy. He had soaked a silk pouch in the potion and had just dropped the watch inside, where it needed to remain for fifteen minutes, when Lorelei had walked through the door.

"Good evening, Albus," she had greeted him, with a smile on her lips. He had not expected her to drop by, but he had responded in kind and welcomed her with a light kiss. He didn't immediately sense anything was wrong, and wondered now if that fact cast him in a careless light.

"I thought you were avoiding the 'ghastly smell' of the potion," he'd remarked. Smells had lately been so heightened for her that Hagrid had been forced to move most of his pets out of doors, a fact which Albus was uncertain if the boy minded. In fact, this project had required several putrid potions and a few exploding spells, and it was so unsettling to Lorelei's olfactory senses that trips to the laboratory left her severely nauseous. She had mostly been unable to participate. It was the reason that Albus had never discussed with her the decision to use a watch. Now, as much as he hated to admit it, Albus was grateful for that fact.

"It does smell awful in here," she'd replied. "But I have missed you, and found I absolutely needed to pull you from your work. Is there anything I can do to distract you?"

He'd grinned at her flirtation. "Always," he'd said. "But I'm so close to finished that I beg to delay you a few more minutes, then I'm all yours."

"You're done then?" she'd responded, eyeing the bag.

He'd smiled broadly. "Almost. Of course, there is still the matter of delivering the working, though I think we shall find an opportunity before too long."

"And it will destroy him?" she'd asked.

That was the moment that Albus had first suspected something was wrong. They had not created a magic time bomb – of this Lorelei was aware. He met her eyes and searched her, promising himself he'd apologize after if he were wrong. He had not been, though he could see something – an internal battle raging. She was trying to fight the spell that had been placed upon her and must have somehow kept Grindelwald from reading certain things within her mind. Albus took a step back from the woman he loved, summoning the bag to him as he did so. Uncertain what to do, he knew he could not break the spell for her. His mind raced over possible options, each as unlikely as the next. If the control was isolated by distance, he could grab her and disapparate to Egypt or some other far away location. They suspected it was the rare imperius curse, but they could be wrong. If instead she'd been given a cursed object or something of that nature, distance would not suffice.

Lorelei lifted her wand as her captor realized that Albus had found him out. The curse she'd used was not something Lorelei would even know of. Albus barely deflected it, and the impact of the magic brought pieces of the roof tumbling down toward them both. Albus magically repelled the debris, trying desperately to protect her – to protect them, and such was his focus that he didn't immediately realize the newcomer in the room – Wilhelm Grindelwald. The evil wizard threw a blinding hex that Albus barely dodged.

Albus had assessed the situation in a split second, hoping that by distracting Grindelwald, Lorelei might be able to free herself completely. He completed a hasty reflecting spell that projected four perfect replicas of his image around the room. Then Albus spun, disapparating from one point and reappearing in another, knowing that his replicas would likewise appear to disapparate and move locations. It effectively confused Grindelwald and he fired off a spell at one of the fakes, instead of the real Albus.

Albus spun again, moving himself and his replicas once more. He apparated next to Lorelei and put a shielding charm around her, hoping to protect her from cross fire, and maybe block out Grindelwald. But the latter was a powerful wizard and he broke through the protective magic almost instantly. He aimed another dark curse at one of the replicas, and Lorelei mirrored his actions, hitting another. The images crumbled, leaving only two likenesses and the real Albus. They both aimed again, Grindelwald at another replica and Lorelei at her actual fiancé.

Albus quickly transfigured a stool into a mountain troll, which roared stupidly, distracting Grindelwald from completing the spell, and from directing Lorelei, as well. Albus allowed himself a moment to set Grindelwald's robes ablaze with gubraithian fire, something that Grindelwald would have to work at to stop. Lorelei, in the meantime, attempted to stun him, but he blocked the spells easily.

It took only a breath for Grindelwald to destroy the troll, and it was only then that he realized his robes were ablaze. Imagining that it was normal fire, the dark wizard attempted a simple aguamenti to put out the flames and discovered that nothing so elementary would suffice. Albus, in the meantime, threw a wand-breaking hex at Grindelwald. He blocked barely in time, but was forced to stop the work he was doing to break the gubraithian fire spell. He cried out in pain as the fire reached his skin.

That was when Lorelei broke free. "Albus!" she cried in the wrong direction, as she faced one of the replicas. In the instant he turned toward her hopefully, Grindelwald slipped a spell past his protections. The blast shook the foundation. Albus gasped Lorelei's name, leaping to protect her, hoping she'd simply apparate. She didn't move, though Albus was able to shield her from the falling debris once more.

The laboratory was now demolished, much of its roof lying in piles of stone on the floor. The spelled mirror that was to catch the image of Grindelwald's activities, once the watch was delivered, had been smashed. Albus made eye-contact with Lorelei, but she was again under Grindelwald's spell and now she had turned her wand at her own chest, though Albus could see her hand shaking as if she struggled against it.

Albus aimed a freezing charm at her and then transfigured her to a butterfly. Grindelwald roared angrily, thinking that Albus had rendered her invisible or somehow sent her away. "So it's just you and me now, Dumbledore!" Grindelwald growled, aiming his wand at the true version and ignoring the others. "More the better!" Of course, it seemed to Albus that Grindelwald had a problem with the truth, for no sooner had the words left his mouth, then two of his followers showed up to join the fight.

Albus was nervous about Lorelei's placement. He would have liked to send her away, but the pressing enemies were too distracting and every time he had a split second to try to send her elsewhere, another spell would fly at him.

He managed to round the two strangers up and trap them in an anti-disapparation spell, but Grindelwald used another of the explosive hexes, raining more pieces of the disintegrated ceiling on the whole group and destroying one of the two remaining replicas. Albus freed Lorelei from the freezing charm, but did not return her to her true form. It was much easier to hide her in this way.

Albus considered changing his own form. He could have a great advantage in flight, though it would be harder to protect Lorelei. He blocked more spells from Grindelwald, a few that he actually didn't recognize despite in-depth studies of dark arts for the purposes of defense. He discontinued his one remaining replica, when he realized it was no longer helping, and tried several obscure spells he'd never actually had a purpose for before. At some point, he realized the fight had gone on well past fifteen minutes.

Albus used a complex hybrid hex to knock Grindelwald off his feet and again set him on fire. This time the dark wizard was expecting Gulbraithian fire, but it was much simpler than that. Albus only wanted a distraction, which is precisely what he achieved, long enough to replace one watch with the other, leaving Grindelwald none the wiser.

At this point, he might have pursued Grindelwald, but he had thought it necessary to gather the evidence they needed to once and for all determine Hitler's role in the war, as well as the Minister of Magic's loyalties. For that reason, Albus hesitated a moment longer than he should have. He had turned to summon Lorelei, who remained in the form of a butterfly, but Grindelwald had already found her and turned her back into herself. She seemed to stand for a moment, perfectly fine and healthy, or so he thought. Then she sagged and collapsed. He'd never seen the spell that killed her. He hadn't even seen when the blow had come, though she must have still been a butterfly at the time. Grindelwald spun and disappeared in that second when Albus sped toward the woman he loved, believing that maybe she was just injured. He'd not even made chase. There had been no last blast of magic or attempt to stop Grindelwald. All Albus' focus had been on reaching her, helping her, saving her. But it was too late. A single trickle of blood spilled from her scalp. Her eyes were fixed, lifeless.

He'd folded, clutching her to him, sobbing and screaming her name. And there he'd remained until Nicholas returned to the laboratory. He'd given no second thought to the two Grindelwald supporters that had been trapped in the corner. Some part of his mind could remember hearing the aurors say that one had died from falling debris, though it had not sunk in at the time.

Albus slipped fully into grief, thinking how his own decisions had ultimately cost Lorelei's life. When the others returned from the pensieve, he was so distraught he had not even noticed. He vaguely heard Perenelle ask Minerva and Nate to take Albus home, though he couldn't bear the thought. Hagrid was there and would have to be told, but more than that, thousands of small reminders existed in that place. Clothes, books, muggle artifacts, perfumes, her toothbrush, makeup, her gobbstones – all scattered throughout the rooms they had shared. And the worst was the knitting -- tiny hats, jumpers and booties -- the thing he'd been trying desperately to shield himself from. He had lost them both.

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	19. Chapter 19 In Memorium

_Disclaimer: I am not, nor shall I ever be JK Rowling. This is her world manipulated for my own amusement._

_A/N: We're not far from the end now._

_a/n: __Albus is forever altered for this story. Hopefully, you can see small pieces of who he is fifty years later coming to be in everything from his off-hand remarks about socks, to his solitary life. But most of all, is the strange twists of humor that seem to come out of nowhere and leave everyone believing he's a bit eccentric – owing to his time with the laugh-prone Lorelei. We are, afterall, the sum of our experiences._

**Chapter 19 – In Memorium**

Days crawled by torturously. Albus was completely consumed by grief and remorse, unable to sleep or eat. Friends tried to help, making sure he was never alone, and that the many reminders of Lorelei were removed from his line of sight. He'd even gone to stay in Nicholas' home at the insistence of Perenelle, rather than returning right away to Hogwarts.

Hagrid had been fetched to the house in France, where the heart-breaking news had been delivered. Even though Albus had expected the boy to take it hard, it was much worse than he'd ever imagined. Hagrid had wept bitterly, blaming himself for her passing as if his mere presence in her life had somehow doomed Lorelei. And though he was far too educated to believe such a notion, Albus found himself relating to the sentiment, because some part of him wondered if he were such an anathema to those who would love him, for surely it could not be coincidence that he remained alone after so many years, even though he did not desire solitude.

Arabella took the news even harder. Aberforth brought the girl to Nicholas' home when rumors began to circulate. There was little point in keeping her away now, as they knew Grindelwald was hunting for her, and though it had originally seemed prudent to keep her at a distance, now it seemed that strength in numbers was a better plan of action. It had not been lost on them that Grindelwald had never discovered Nicholas' home – a testament to the numerous spells and protections on the residence. More importantly though, Aberforth had been unable to bring himself to deliver the news, knowing that Arabella would likely be devastated, so it had fallen to Albus to explain the loss again. Arabella had immediately slapped him, as if the blow could halt the truth of it, and save her from the grief that awaited her. She had then collapsed into sobs, calling her sister's name fruitlessly. It was a display that Albus knew he'd never forget and that would likely haunt him all of his days. The grief would pass eventually, but the events would leave scars that only he would know were there.

Then came the owls. It was not unexpected that Lorelei's death would touch many people; she was well liked by her students and colleagues. Each post carried with it a kind sentiment with a proper motive, but the condolence letters somehow added salt to the open wounds left by her murder. There came a moment when Albus, patient and gentle man though he was, raged at the birds as if they had killed her, and swore to set all their feathers on fire if they didn't cease and desist their deliveries. Two of the feathered creatures turned tail and flew off without dropping their burdens, while another eyed him warily but dropped the card and winged away as fast as it could. Perenelle had patted his shoulder sympathetically, but it was not sympathy Albus desired: He only wanted time to reverse and Lorelei to return to him unharmed. Even with a time turner though, death was forever.

A memorial was held for Lorelei Figg at Hogwarts on the eighth day following her passing. Without another burial plot at the ready, it had seemed a natural solution to lay her to rest at the school that had so loved her. It seemed to Albus as if the entire student body had turned out for the memorial, and more than half of them dabbed at their eyes with kerchiefs and sniffed intermittently. Arabella attended with Albus, her grief-driven outburst having been forgiven even as it was delivered. The rest of the Figg family did not attend, as if Grindelwald's control was so complete that the death of the first-born child and eldest sister could go unnoticed – it was the reason why there was no other burial plot to be had for her in another location.

When the service was done, Albus sat motionless in his chair, trying to piece together what was to come next. Nicholas and Perenelle were seated to one side of him, Hagrid, Arabella, and Aberforth on the other, with Minerva, Nate, Howard and Elijah behind him. Nicholas had only just been released from St. Mungo's, and Elijah was only two days out.

"Albus," Nicholas called softly. "Would you like to return to France with us for a few days? I'm sure we could arrange it with Headmaster Dippet."

It seemed likely that the Headmaster could find a substitute for a few days, but some part of Albus balked at the idea. Perhaps it was the part of him that realized exams were almost upon them, or maybe it was the guilt that gnawed at him day and night and kept him from agreeing. "No," he answered finally. "My place is here."

The others nodded their understanding, but eyed him worriedly. He knew he looked gaunt and weary, but he didn't wait to let them argue. He stood, holding out a hand to Arabella to help her to her feet. "There is work to be done. The year is soon to close and exams are coming. I could not leave my students at the mercy of a substitute. Also, Lorelei wanted Grindelwald stopped, and I have allowed myself far too many hours without attending to that wish. It's time to keep my promise."

He turned and found himself face to face with Armando Dippet, who was wearing a grave expression. The headmaster was accompanied by Tom Riddle, the talented head boy who had once turned Hagrid in as the responsible party for the death of Myrtle Young.

"Professor Dumbledore," Dippet addressed him formally, probably for the sake of Riddle, "I was wondering if I might have a word regarding – umm – well that is to say..."

"Perhaps you'd like me to accompany you to your office?" Albus offered.

The head master inclined his head slightly as if to nod, but then changed direction abruptly. "I don't wish to take you from those friends who have come to support you at a difficult time. It is that which I was – well that is to say – I wanted to see about giving you some time off. Tom, here, has indicated an interest in possibly teaching in the future. I was thinking that perhaps he could substitute most of your classes for a couple of days – You'd have some time to spend with your friends, and he could see if teaching really suits him."

Albus turned his attention to Tom, though he could not read the boy, which was not unusual. It was a fact that unnerved him greatly, given recent events. "I do not wish to remove your opportunity to try your hand at teaching, Tom," he began as politely as possible. "However, I'm afraid I need to work right now. I did take a couple days, as you know, but it's very hard..." He didn't finish. He hardly felt he needed to explain, and yet, Tom's expression was briefly angry. "Perhaps -- well I know you haven't yet found a substitute for Lorelei, and Tom should be more than qualified to work in muggle studies..." He stopped abruptly. It was not his imagination. Tom looked almost seething now.

"Now don't worry, Albus," Dippet replied, reverting to his usual address. "I understand completely. Sometimes it is better to stay busy. Tom and I will discuss the possibility of covering Lorelei's position, though I have, most unfortunately, already posted to a potential substitute and was awaiting his response. Perhaps he could assist Professor Merrythought for a few days as that is the position he hopes someday to acquire."

Albus turned his attention back to Tom Riddle, though the boy's features were again unreadable. Albus knew that Merrythought was ready to retire, and he promised himself to find a private moment to dissuade Dippet from hiring Tom for the position. It was highly unusual to hire someone immediately after graduation, and, though Tom was very talented, Albus could probably convince the headmaster that the boy was still very immature and needed time to grow up before taking on such a huge responsibility.

For his own part, he definitely needed to stay busy. He could hunt Grindelwald in the evening hours and the weekends, and hopefully, between that and work, he would be too busy to think about Lorelei and how much he missed her. He knew he couldn't bear to watch the others grieve any more. It might be regarded as selfish, but he simply needed distance from it. Very few of the Hogwarts students realized the depth of his connection with Lorelei. Only a handful suspected they were seeing one another, and of those, none knew that she was pregnant, and planning a wedding. It had been in deference to Dippet that they had kept things between them very private. As for Tom Riddle, who must have known or suspected something of a relationship, Albus believed the boy to have very limited understanding of love. It was a sad fact, but true, nevertheless. The longer he knew him, the more Albus was troubled by the younger man's attitudes and coldness. But it was a problem to be addressed another day, if at all.

Albus thanked Dippet for his understanding and turned his attention back to his friends. "Hagrid," Albus said, "Would you like to return to France with Nicholas, or stay here."

Hagrid grumbled a barely coherent, "Stay here," and sniffed thickly before bursting once more into sobs. Albus tried to comfort him, fighting the urge to rush away and hide instead. He hardly knew what to do with his own grief, let alone that of others. And though he was responsible for Hagrid, the young man required less and less of his attention. Soon enough Hagrid would be an adult and Albus would once more be alone, unable to keep a larger set of rooms since he had no family. It hardly mattered that Hagrid held that position in his heart, or that he would trust Hagrid with his life; the law did not see the relationship and neither did the rules of Hogwarts, though Albus hoped someday to change that. Families sometimes defied convention, and yet the traditions of the ancient school did not allow room for a broader definition.

He hardly knew how he got through the last half hour in which Nicholas, Perenelle, Aberforth, Nate, Howard, and especially Arabella remained at Hogwarts. Minerva was the one exception. She seemed to understand inexplicably when to step back and when to draw closer, and though she cried, she didn't look to Albus for comfort or reassurance, but drew it from within instead. He supposed that they had enough in common to understand each other in that way. And if there were anyone he would want to substitute him in transfiguration, it would be Minerva and never Tom Riddle. But he did not voice those thoughts to anyone.

After the last of the guests were gone, and Hagrid had headed to tend some of his "intrest'in' creatures", a task which Albus knew the boy drew comfort from, Albus moved about his office as if possessed, gathering necessary articles for recreating the spelled mirror that would track Grindelwald's moves. It might have been impossible, if Minerva had not returned to the devastated laboratory on the evening Lorelei was killed, to retrieve pieces of the broken mirror. Her quick action had saved the trap entirely, making reconstitution of the mirror a possibility, even though she had not been able to repair the mirror or collect all the pieces.

Albus worked in the silence, enchanting the piece to melt into a new mirror, and taking the essence of the first to complete the same spells for the replacement. He had stood, staring at his own reflection for so long that he seemed to stare beyond it, and he saw a spector – an image of the woman he loved. Albus held his breath, more than mesmerized by the sight of her, though the thinking part of him had long ruled out the existence of such images without the actual ghost to accompany them. His foolishness even carried a hint of her voice, though he felt it rather than heard it – in the way that one senses foreboding without cause. "Elijah asked the right question." Had he heard right? But, no it could not be. Three more times he thought he heard those words, "Elijah asked the right question," before the fact that he'd held his breath caught up with him, and his lungs forced him to breathe painfully.

In the blink of an eye, the image had disappeared. Only the scent of lemon-verbena that suddenly tickled his senses gave him pause to wonder if he'd actually seen her. The fact left him stunned, and facing another sleepless night.

---

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	20. Chapter 20 The Terrible Truth

Disclaimer: JK Rowling did everything you recognize except the name of the screaming book and what it contains.

_And now…_

**Chapter 20 - The Terrible Truth**

Hours after Albus had finished the mirror, he lay in his bed unable to sleep. He wondered if the watch would have collected enough evidence, but he didn't want to view it without Elijah Huntington – he felt he owed the auror that much. Albus had not slept well the last few nights, but that was not what was keeping him awake this time. It was the words he'd heard from the specter, if that's what it was. Had Lorelei found a way to send him a message from beyond the grave, or was it something that had been eating at him all of this time that he didn't consciously realize?

Elijah had asked the right question – that could only refer to his inquiries as to what George had been going to show Albus and Nicholas, and the suggestion that Grindelwald thought that they had known where it, or something else, was. George Ellison had found something very important, and perhaps it was much more important than the man even realized. But then, it cannot have been Elijah who had actually asked that question. By that point, he had already been under the control of Adam Fullerton. Did that void the question, or simply prove that it was important?

Albus began to go over the scene at the warehouse once more in his mind. He even thought about pulling himself from his bed and using the pensieve to explore it more thoroughly; though truth be told, he didn't want to revisit that horrific scene if he could avoid it. The warehouse was large and anything could have been hidden there. Certainly, Grindelwald and his supporters would know to look for traces of magic concealment. But more importantly, why would George have hidden anything within the warehouse, when it was within the domain of Grindelwald himself?

The whole situation left more questions than answers. Albus had wondered for months what had been in that warehouse that George had wanted them to see. He had also wondered why Grindelwald had chosen a London warehouse as a point to do anything. With the ability to apparate, Grindelwald and his supporters could have worked together anywhere. Why would he choose a warehouse near the Thames in the heart of muggle London, where muggles could easily have stumbled across his operations? But then Albus suddenly wondered if that was the point.

Struck with the most appalling notion, Albus scrambled out of bed, threw on his dressing gown and headed down the corridor, guided only by the light of his wand. He did not encounter anyone in his trek through the halls other than Peeves, who knew better than to pull his pranks on Albus, though the poltergeist did try to engage him in a few ridiculous jokes, which, in ordinary circumstances, Albus might have enjoyed; but he was not in the mood for funny stories.

Once inside the silent library, he made his way directly to restricted section. He had not expected to find someone there, but he did. Tom Riddle sat, reading a very large book on advanced dark magic. The sight brought him to a halt.

"Tom!" Albus voiced his surprise.

Tom looked up at him bleary eyed and yawned. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," he said, as if his presence there were perfectly natural. As always, the boy's mind was completely closed to him, and offered no hint as to whether his activities were something to be concerned with. "Perhaps we both have late reading habits," he added flippantly.

"You should not be out of your dormitory so late, Tom," Albus responded sternly. "As head boy, you have an obligation to set a good example for the other students."

"Quite right, Sir," Tom replied, suddenly respectful. "I'm afraid I found myself unable to sleep. I have been working on a report for Professor Merrythought that is presenting a bit of a challenge. I suddenly could not remember a piece of information I had read and failed to document in my notes. I came here imagining that I'd find it quickly, only to so far reread half the book and still not find what I'm looking for. I know it's hardly an excuse…" For a half second, Albus again thought he read something in the younger man's behaviors, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and Albus didn't know if he was imagining things.

"Well, hurry back to bed, Tom. It can wait until morning. You know that I must take some points away from Slytherin, but I believe five should suffice."

Tom returned his book to the shelf and headed back to his dormitory with only a nod, leaving Albus extremely worried about what he'd witnessed. He ultimately decided that Grindelwald was the more pressing issue, however, and reached for an old black and silver volume on the bottom shelf. The title was written in Sumerian was simply _Gaz An_but he knew it to mean "Slaughter Skies". He quickly did a silencing charm, knowing that the book would scream otherwise, and opened it toward the center.

Albus made his way to a table and sat to absorb the text, performing an elaborate spell that translated the text for him; he was too tired to translate himself. It was there he remained for the next hour, absorbing ancient rituals in which evil wizards of the past had found horrifying uses for muggles, including one wizard who found a brew to strengthen his own life force by absorbing the essence of each, much in the way a dementor might suck the soul from an individual when it performed its deadly "kiss". But the worst came in an ancient story of mind control. The wizard in question, a man called only Utu. had become unbelievably strong in a very short period of time by forcing a subordinate to paint rune symbols using the blood of a dying non-magic human on an altar kept in a "twice blessed room", while Utu sat above and channeled the energy. He was able to maintain mind control spells over great distances afterward. The story was so old that there was some disagreement among wizard historians with regard to its accuracy – some thought it was little more than a tale meant to frighten children. Albus might have been one of those skeptics, had the text not gone into such great detail about the importance of making a squib do the actual painting. For two years, Albus had been trying to see a reason that Grindelwald might be interested in Arabella. Now the horrible possibility left him nauseated.

Albus tried to imagine Arabella assisting with such a terrifying ritual, but he simply couldn't. He knew, however, that a discrepancy existed between her experience with Grindelwald's mind control and Elijah's – Elijah remembered everything he had done or been asked to do. Arabella, however, was missing more than a year of her life.

Albus began to wonder if there had been another squib before Arabella that Grindelwald might have kept company with, but if there was one, it was not known within Britain. Certainly the magical world didn't keep track of squibs the way they should; such was the conceit of the average wizard. Squibs represented an interesting conflict of facts. They did not possess enough magic to be considered wizards, and yet they saw things that muggles could not. A muggle would not see Hogwarts as any more than a broken down ruin, while Arabella had been able to see the castle in all its splendor. A muggle could not see a dementor at all, but any squib could see enough to be frightened. Muggles did not register within the magic sensing devices the Ministry used to track potential muggle-born students; squibs did, though their essence would simply show as a pale spot on a map, rather than the dark red mark that the Ministry usually noted when each wizard was born.

Albus practically flew back to his office. He hurriedly grabbed his pensieve bowl and a handful of floo powder. He did not even take the time to change into day clothing or brush his hair. He also never thought to wonder what Perenelle and Nicholas would think of his dead of night appearance, until he had already stated their address into the tickling green flames.

He spun to a halt in the kitchen grate at the Flamel Residence. Albus suddenly realized that he might have to wake the house in order to ask the burning questions that he simply couldn't put off. He stepped out of the fire and crossed the otherwise dark kitchen, only to find another soul awake in the predawn hours – Lolly. It suddenly occurred to him to wonder why she had not attended the memorial.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she squeaked, surprised. "I is not expecting you. No, no, no."

"I did not forewarn of my visit," he stated. Then, deciding it best to ask directly those questions that he was tormented by, he added, "Lolly, why have I not seen you since we sent Arabella to Aberforth?"

"House elves is not to be seen, sir," she replied. "We is to be doing our tasks. Miss Lory ordered me to take care of Miss Bella and I's seen to it."

"What other orders did Lorelei give you, Lolly?" he asked, crouching so the tiny elf need not continue to stare up at him so.

Lolly looked hesitant. "Elves keeps their family's secrets, sir," she replied finally.

"Yes, Lolly, but Lorelei is gone now and she may have directed you to keep something secret that is preventing me from stopping the man who killed her," Albus explained more sternly than he'd meant to.

"Miss Lory did not give many orders to Lolly, sir. I is supposed to protect and care for Miss Bella, and to come to you if there is danger. I is also supposed to see you and Hagrid as family."

Albus was touched and saddened by the gesture he'd never known Lorelei had made. "Has Arabella ever given you an order?" he pressed.

"Yes," Lolly replied, her large eyes pleading for him not to ask more.

"Are you sure that all orders she gave you were given of her own free will?" he asked.

Now Lolly stared open-mouthed. "Lolly is not sure what sir means by that."

Albus had managed to lower himself to where their eyes were at the same level. "Lolly, Arabella was under mind-control for more than a year of her life. Did she, during that time, give you any orders which seem questionable to you now? And please, don't tell me a house elf is not supposed to question, because at this point you must. Arabella's life may depend on it."

Lolly bit her lip, seeming to struggle with something. Finally she nodded, though only slightly. "Miss Bella says I's not to tell anyone about her clothes and I's to help her clean them. But I is unable to get out stains and had to throw them away."

Albus ignored the obvious fact that Lolly had handled clothing, something that house elves usually never were assigned to do because it could mean they were inadvertently freed. "Was it blood that was staining the clothing, Lolly?" he questioned, as gently as he could.

It seemed impossible that Lolly's eyes could get any larger, but they did. She seemed unable to blink and very frightened. She finally nodded again, so slightly that it was almost indistinguishable. "But not just as I's been able to wash blood stains from other things. They's magic blood stains."

He considered this for a moment. "How many times did this take place?"

"Six," Lolly answered.

He sighed heavily, sad to know his worst fears were probably true, but grateful that Grindelwald had taken the time to erase Arabella's memory completely. "Lolly, this is helpful to me, but will never be helpful to Arabella. Since she doesn't know, can you refrain from ever mentioning it to her? I will try to shield her from this as best I can. Perhaps when grief over her sister is not so strong, Arabella will be prepared to learn the truth. For now I believe it can do nothing but destroy her. Now I must discuss this with Nicholas and Perenelle. Otherwise, we will keep this between us. And Lolly, thank you. You did the right thing tonight."

Albus stood, uncertain how he was going to talk this over with Nicholas, but certain that it was the last thing Lorelei would have wanted her sister to know about herself. It was not like Arabella helped willingly, and yet he knew that guilt would destroy the girl forever if she learned the truth.

- - -

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	21. Chapter 21 Return to the Warehouse

**Disclaimer: If you don't know by now that this is based on the work of JK Rowling and molded to my own purposes, you haven't been paying attention. Who am I kidding, you always pay attention!**

**Chapter 21 – Return to the Warehouse**

"But aurors crawled all over that murder scene," Nicholas said as he, Albus, and Perenelle sat at the kitchen table discussing the ancient spells that Albus had found reference to in the Hogwarts Library. "Do you actually believe that altar is somewhere in the building?"

"While I agree that it wouldn't have to be for Grindelwald to perform his ceremonies, I believe it must have been what George wanted to show us. Anything smaller and he would simply have brought it to us, not the other way around," Albus replied. He studied his oldest friend. Nicholas still looked pale and weak. Though he was well enough to be home, it occurred to Albus that Nicholas was probably not up to a search."

"I cannot fault your logic," Nicholas replied as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly. "It's just that – well I don't want to believe it, I suppose."

Albus reiterated the secret divulged to him by Lolly and added, "Nearly all the pieces fit. The only thing I cannot imagine is what Grindelwald might have thought was in our possession. Still, there has to have been something, and whatever it is, he's been missing it since George died."

Perenelle, who had remained silent until now, spoke lightly. "George might have hidden something necessary to the spell in the warehouse, if he realized he'd been compromised."

"If he realized he'd been compromised, why not simply apparate away though?" Nicholas argued skeptically. "Let's say he's in the warehouse waiting for Albus and myself, and another wizard or wizards track him down. First of all, there would have been a fight; George was a very capable wizard. But we never really found signs of much of a struggle. I believe the ministry determined that he must have been surprised. Also, this scenario really doesn't allow time for him to take anything and hide it."

Albus pressed his fingertips together, trying to imagine George's last moments before he was killed. "I have never been able to understand why he entered that building. He was supposed to meet us out front. He had to have known it was possible that Grindelwald or some of his supporters would return."

"Perhaps he was not in control when he entered the building," Perenelle suggested. She also had a mug of coffee, but Albus was not sure if she'd actually taken a single sip. She stared at it as if the dark liquid held the answer.

"That seems doubtful," Albus replied. "George had already successfully thrown off control and it does become easier with practice. It seems more likely that something drew him inside."

"Have you looked in the mirror at all?" Nicholas asked suddenly. "Did you watch his dealings or use it to track him?"

"No," Albus replied. "I want Elijah present when I do. After all he's been through, he should have the chance to be part of Grindelwald's capture."

"That's a kind sentiment, Albus," Perenelle said. She promptly yawned broadly, reminding Albus of the fact that he'd stirred both from their slumber and should probably let them return to their bed for whatever remained of the night hours, assuming the coffee didn't leave them tossing and turning.

Albus stood and slid his arms back into his cloak. "I should be going. I've deprived you of enough sleep," he told them, forcing a smile. "I just – I simply couldn't delay warning you that Grindelwald will probably continue to hunt for Arabella. Somewhere in her mind, the truth is waiting to be revealed, though if I have anything to say about it, that truth will never be released. I believe there are some secrets worth burying, and this is one."

"I agree completely," Perenelle added, also rising to her feet. She picked up the cups and carried them to the sink.

"He won't find us, Albus. We are too well protected. Still, if she must be hidden again, I can think of a few places that are better guarded then your brother's home," Nicholas remarked. Then a look crossed his countenance, one which Albus had come to think of as a precursor to interrogation. "Why ever did you think she was safe at Aberforth's? He's hardly the wizard that you are, Albus."

Albus smiled at his oldest friend. "Aberforth does not hide things in the way that you or I would, and he's not well known in the magical community either. One of his greatest gifts is an understanding of how to hide in plain sight – a fact which, I felt, made him in many ways safer than either of us. He would have made an amazing spy, had he determined to pursue a ministry approved vocation. It's a fact that George always found intriguing about my brother. He would have appreciated the simplicity of it..." Albus stopped, suddenly having realized something he'd not considered before. "Oh my," was all he said before making hasty goodbyes and rushing off into the predawn chill.

He spun in place, apparating in an instant to the warehouse and spelling himself invisible. The old structure had not changed much from his visit to it before. All outward appearances remained exactly as he had remembered, though no part of it was covered in snow. The month had been mild, but frequently rainy -- weather that was typical of April. The magical law enforcement team that had investigated George Ellison's death had made efforts to leave the building looking untouched in general, though it was now spelled to give muggles a sense of foreboding as they neared it. Anti-apparition charms had been placed upon it as well, and the building had magical safeguards to notify the ministry if any wizards should return to the scene of the crime. But there were ways around such safeguards, and one of them was Albus' best trick.

He assumed his animagus form and flew over the circumference of the building, eyeing everything with the sharp vision his phoenix eyes provided. The ability to shift to a magical creature gave Albus an immense advantage that most ministry wizards didn't have at their disposal, including a separate method of materializing into a new location that would not set off the notification enchantments and could not be hindered by a simple anti-apparition hex. As long as he did not set down in wizard form, the ministry need never know he had entered.

Once inside the building, he flew room by room, inspecting the space cautiously. It was not a simple matter of trying to sense magic; he had done so to no effect. His lack of success left him no choice but to search in a more traditional way. More than a few rooms had nothing of interest whatsoever, and it made the space slightly confusing. He began to wonder if he was searching the same rooms over and over. There were not even rodents or insects in most of the rooms – nothing to make one dusty room stand out from another. Finally, in a room, on the topmost floor of the warehouse, that actually did have a spider hiding in the corner of the ceiling, he sensed a masking spell, though he had to be practically on top of the magic.

As soon as he had released the masking spell, Albus could finally see what he'd been searching for. Centered on a concrete dais, the altar was a large, hollow, wooden square, covered in brass plates. The corners had carved wooden symbols on ornate oak posts. The brass surface was covered in dried blood in runic shapes. So much power crackled within the room that it sent a shiver down Albus' spine. He wondered how he could ever have missed the magic from outside the room, when the masking spell had been so simple. He also wondered how the ministry personnel had failed to notice it.

Curiosity overtook him, and Albus flew back outside the room, closing his eyes as he reached with his mind to find the magic. Strangely, he could not sense it, even though he knew very well that it was there and the masking spell had been disabled. Perhaps the "twice-blessed" description of the room covered that aspect. Albus was not sure what that meant, because the book had not gone into detail about the religious portion of the spell; that was common within very ancient enchantments. Albus was sometimes amazed that some of the feats of magic had been accomplished in centuries past, because wizards, especially during the dark ages, were so superstitious that some of the ancient religious rituals had found their way into the workings. Sometimes the religious activities did absolutely nothing for the spells, but occasionally the effects could be so altering to the scientific aspects of the magic as to make it impossible to see how anyone ever learned the difference. While Albus was not one to dispute the role of a higher power in human existence, he did not tend to be particularly religious. Of what he did believe, he could see nothing but paradox in the idea of magic so dark taking place in a room blessed by a loving god. He took a long time in processing this, for only rarely did magic stump him this completely.

Albus ultimately decided that "blessed" might be equal to "protected" and tried a few obscure test spells that were designed to reveal elaborate protection enchantments. Ultimately his suspicions were confirmed, and Albus began to understand why the altar room hadn't stood out to his senses earlier. He also wondered how magical law enforcement was going to feel when they discovered something so important left undetected at the scene of a murder. He was just about to go when an idea struck him. Returning to the room, he released one protection enchantment and magically lifted the altar and turned it over. There was nothing inside. He magically turned the whole thing over again – struggling against spells that were difficult while still in phoenix form.

Albus flew around the room, thinking. He had expected to find something hidden there. It would be like George to secret something in plain sight using Grindelwald's own protection spells to block its detection. It was not until he looked up at the ceiling, and again saw the spider, that he realized the arachnid had not moved at all.

Hoping that the remaining protection spell would keep his presence from being detected, Albus shifted to himself. The level of transfiguration he needed to return the spider to its true form was something he simply couldn't accomplish in phoenix state. Albus had known that George was a very gifted wizard and more than capable of some ingenious spells; whatever had brought about his death was more likely a fluke than an attack by a more talented wizard.

When at last he found the particular combination of magic and wand motion, Albus watched as the spider grew in size and changed from furry animal image to an inanimate object. It was angular and blocky, created of finely polished mahogany and gleaming metal – a shape reminiscent of a model locomotive, though clearly anything but. Albus stared at his find and cautiously removed the sticking charm that had attached it to the ceiling. It had been years since Albus had seen a magic lantern – a name that amused him greatly considering that the original objects had not been magic at all. But the moment he touched this one, he knew that was not the case this time. The charms that had been placed on this antique projector were strong and its purpose was probably important. Why else would Grindelwald have risked everything to find it? Why else would George have risked everything to hide it, and how had it happened?

Albus heard a sound below him. Someone else had entered the warehouse and was ascending the stairs at a rapid pace.

-.-.-

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	22. Chapter 22 Final Battle

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to JK Rowling. If you don't recognize it and it's quite weird – blame me.**

_**A/N: Here's the fight you've all been waiting for. Hope I didn't disappoint.**_

**Chapter 22 – Battle**

Albus determined that the best course of action was to get out of there. He couldn't be sure who was coming and he definitely didn't want the magic lantern found. George had risked everything to keep it from Grindelwald's hands, and Albus had no intention of delivering it back to the enemy. He rendered himself invisible and shifted to phoenix form. But when he tried to use the phoenix method of apparition, he received an unhappy surprise; the magic lantern was keeping him grounded.

Suddenly Albus understood many things about George's last day on Earth. George had found two things in the warehouse, the altar and the lantern. Neither could be moved easily, and whatever the lantern was, George knew it would derail Grindelwald's plans in some way if it disappeared. He had probably asked Albus and Nicholas to come to the warehouse in the hope that they would be able to help him break the spells that bound it to the location. The night George was killed, something had drawn him into that warehouse, but while his killer found George, the killer did not find the lantern.

Those thoughts flashed through his mind in the way that so many thoughts do – moving faster than the speed of light. He transfigured the magic lantern back into a spider and returned it to its hiding place. Then, knowing he was invisible and that he could still disapparate using the phoenix method, Albus hovered, waiting to see who had come.

Two young wizards, familiar to Albus, crept cautiously into the room. Darren Carpenter and Gregory Smith must not have been aware of the enchantment the ministry had set to notify them of wizard entry into the warehouse.

"No one is here, Greg," Darren said fearfully. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I feel it. Something has changed," Gregory responded. He was turning in a broad circle, looking at every surface, but staring right through Albus. His invisibility was working perfectly. "I should have searched better the night I caught that auror here. In all this time the lantern has never turned up. This is about the only place we haven't returned to look."

"Well, here and Hogwarts," Darren corrected.

"If Dumbledore took the thing, it would have been given to the ministry by now, and then we'd know," Gregory countered, as he moved cautiously into the room, still looking in every direction.

Albus stared at the two sorrowfully. Some part of him had hoped the two were under mind control. He did not have to use legilimency to know the answer. It was apparent by their exchange; they had followed Grindelwald of their own free will.

"I told you that you should have let Lord Grindelwald interrogate the auror first," Darren retorted sharply. It seemed like it must be a well-practiced argument. This further confirmed who had killed George, and though Albus had guessed it was Gregory Smith, he had wanted to be wrong.

Beneath them, they heard sounds of more arrivals. It seemed logical that this would be ministry officials, answering the magical summons sent by the arrival of Gregory and Darren. Albus did not want to capture the two in this room. He wanted nothing to pull Grindelwald back to this location, until he figured out how to remove the lantern. But Albus was torn, because he also did not want the two to attack the ministry officials. It seemed inevitable that someone would die from such a confrontation. No deaths could be acceptable to Albus; he had been teacher to both boys and still felt a need to protect them, despite the fact that he knew what they had done and that they deserved punishment for their choices. But he could not, in good conscience, leave them the opportunity to kill again.

He waited until the two turned to creep silently back down the stairs before he used a capturing spell to pin them to the wall in the corridor outside the altar room. It could hardly be called a battle; it was over so quickly.

Albus returned to the altar room, reverting to himself to try to remove the magic lantern, though it still looked like a spider. It could be summoned, but could not leave the room in any manner. While he worked, he kept expecting the ministry officials to call out or ascend the staircase. It was his hope to get the lantern before they came up so that it could be examined at the ministry.

It took several long moments that seemed more like hours before he finally found the right combination of spells. His own brief stint as a curse breaker in his early twenties provided a wealth of knowledge toward that end. Despite his focus on his task, he kept listening for the ministry officials, who seemed not to have discovered Gregory and Darren yet. With the disguised lantern at last in his hand, Albus finally decided to approach those below and hopefully not scare the life out of them. He stepped out of the room and met a blast of yellow light from a wand that he barely ducked in time.

To Albus' horror, no aurors had yet been summoned to the warehouse. Instead, it was Wilhelm Grindelwald himself. He had brought with him three loyal followers, and had also released Gregory and Darren from their bonds. Albus didn't know why he hadn't heard them ascend the stairs but it hardly mattered. He was now a single man facing six dark wizards, and should he die there, he might not be found for days since no one had known he was returning to the warehouse.

Albus shifted smoothly to phoenix form, intending to get the spider/lantern out and save his fighting skills for a less one-sided battle. However, Grindelwald seemed to have expected this and used an image locking hex combined with a summoning charm to keep him from exiting. Performing magic without a hand to hold his wand and without the focus of his own human form was difficult, but Albus managed to shift back to himself and duck the blood curse that was aimed at him.

Grindelwald laughed mirthlessly. "You're not actually a phoenix, Dumbledore. If I kill you there will be no rebirth. If I maim you, your tears cannot heal." A purple shot of light grazed the edge of his robes and Albus turned to see who of the five others had sent that spell. Gregory Smith followed it up with a second, but Albus turned the spell around on him – not taking the time to think about just what the spell was. Gregory took the blast fully in the chest and collapsed, just as three more spells flew at Albus. He dropped, barely in time, and one of the spells that had missed him instead hit one of Grindelwald's men, who was very suddenly engulfed in flames.

Above him, Grindelwald started shouting orders, trying to keep his men from killing each other. Albus used the distraction to cast an exploding stun spell. Two more of the supporters were hit and knocked out, but the whole group felt the concussive blast, and the building groaned with the impact, while dust and pieces of plaster showered them from the ceiling.

Encouraged by the fact that the tables had been so suddenly turned, Albus transfigured the stair railing into a python. It slithered off the brass supports and crawled toward the fray, unnoticed by the two men firing spell after spell at him. Albus continued to block each hex, wondering exactly when one of them might notice the snake and whether they'd find it bothersome or not. Albus also transfigured several knutes into hornets that flew angrily at Grindelwald, stinging him mercilessly on his face and arms.

It was then that one of Grindelwald's spells finally reached Albus. He felt a warm sensation and his mind went blank. It was a wonderful feeling and very soothing. "_Drop your wand_," a voice said. His fingers automatically loosened on his wand and it slid slightly toward the floor.

"_But why_?" his own mind asked. "_I don't want to_," he thought, as if from a distance.

"_Drop your wand!" _the order was powerful, more forceful than before.

"_I don't want to!" _his own thoughts shouted loudly. Deep within himself, Albus realized that this was a control spell and that if he didn't either convince them he was compliant or else attack them, Grindelwald and Darren Carpenter would kill him.

He let the wand slide to the floor and hung there limply, pretending to be in control.

"That's it Dumbledore, you're not so tough are you?" Grindelwald said smugly. "Now, bring me my lantern. I know that you know where it is."

Albus turned and walked toward the altar, leaving his wand behind him. He heard Darren gasp a sigh of relief. Albus reached the altar and focused his mind as completely as he could, ordering his wand to return to him. It soared into his outstretched hand, just as Darren let out a scream. Whirling, Albus realized that the python had reached the younger man and had wrapped itself around both his legs. It appeared that Darren was extremely fearful of snakes, which was to Albus' advantage.

Grindelwald had been momentarily distracted by his friend's scream, but suddenly became aware that Albus was fighting back. The powerful hex Grinedelwald threw next broke through Albus' attempts at deflection, and only his quick reflexes saved him. He threw himself flat to the floor and the spell flew over his head. When the spell struck the altar it shattered as if it had been glass, propelling shards of wood and brass in all directions. Both Albus and Grindelwald were struck painfully by shrapnel, while Darren continued to struggle against the snake.

Another twist of Albus' wand turned the snake into ropes that subdued Darren Carpenter, wrapping around him tightly and pulling him off balance to tumble to the floor. In the time it took to complete that spell work, Grindelwald had again aimed another hex like the one that had just destroyed the altar. Albus used a switching spell to reverse the hex's direction and it hit Grindelwald in the stomach. He cried out as though in pain only briefly, before his skeleton burst inside him. He sagged to the ground, a sack of flesh with no support, his organs crushed from gravity as he fell.

Albus stood shakily, staring at the remains of the man who had killed the woman he loved and his only child – Grindelwald hardly resembled a human now and he was quite dead. The full impact of the battle struck Albus just as he finally heard voices that were unmistakably the ministry officials he'd been expecting all along. The fools declared themselves as they entered the warehouse. Had Albus not just destroyed their would-be attackers, the ministry men would surely have been killed before they knew what hit them.

- -

Please review. Very little left to go!


	23. Chapter 23 Moving On

Disclaimer: I didn't do it originally, but I did eventually.

_A/N: Here it is at long last – the final chapter. Thanks for bearing with me. There's some major research in this chapter. And yes, April 29th, 1945 was actually a Sunday. I checked!_

_And now..._

_**Chapter 23 – Moving On**_

The magic lantern was probably the most uniquely charmed item that Albus had ever seen. Once the candle was lit and one of seven hand-painted slides was in place, everyone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could see why it had been important to Grindelwald. The first slide they tried, a perfect depiction of the SIS headquarters on Saint James Street, showed the private planning offices of the British Secret Intelligence Service. A cleaning woman was sweeping the empty room at the time they tried, but they quickly understood that the lantern would let them glimpse anything within those offices that was happening at that moment. And the swishing sound of bristles against tile told them the viewer could also listen in. It was the perfect espionage device.

Albus saw them sort through the other slides one at a time. They included: the Downing Street Office of the British Prime Minister, the DGSE Office at Caserne des Tourelles in Paris, the Lubyanka KGB Headquarters in Moscow, the Primer Office in the Kremlin in Moscow, the Dwójka Bureau south of Warsaw, and the Quirinal Palace in Rome. It suddenly became clear to Albus how the Nazis had always seemed one step ahead of the other European nations.

The magic involved in making the lantern was unique and mysterious. Albus imagined that it would find its way to the department of mysteries for study. He worried slightly that it might fall into the wrong hands at some point, but decided not to think about it for now.

It was nearly noon before Albus was finally released from answering questions. At that time he promised himself that he would never again allow the Ministry of Magic to monopolize his time beyond reason. He decided to take himself to the Leaky Cauldron for a bite and to settle his wits before telling Nicholas the news.

It seemed strange that, in the end, the trap had served no purpose toward stopping Grindelwald. The mirror, which he had dispatched to Elijah with Fawkes, would answer their questions about the minister of magic and of Adolf Hitler and his Regime. Albus had sent detailed instructions on how to use it, just before he went to visit Nicholas on the previous night. Albus had briefly glimpsed Elijah at the ministry when he'd gone to talk to Magical Law Enforcement and then the Wizengamot Office, but he had been unable to approach the auror.

Tom, the bar owner, led Albus to a table in the corner. The Leaky Cauldron was unusually quiet for a Sunday, so much so that Albus picked up a newspaper to make sure he hadn't inadvertently missed a day. It was a muggle paper, not the "Daily Prophet". The date showed April 29, 1945. The front page sported the headline, "Mussolini Executed!" Albus scanned the story briefly before folding the paper and setting it back on the table. April 28th, the day he had buried Lorelei and the day he had been determined to repair the mirror, was also the day in which a ruthless dictator was hanged by his own people. It might mark the end of the war. Even now, allied troops were pressing Berlin, determined to destroy Hitler. But Lorelei had not lived to see any of it.

Tom brought a bowl of soup and several rolls to Albus, along with a mug of mulled mead. Albus thanked him, grateful that the barman did not seem aware of where he'd spent the last few hours. He began to eat quickly, his attention only on his meal. He wasn't sure when last he'd actually eaten or even why his appetite seemed to have returned so readily. It had been only a few short hours since he'd turned Grindelwald's spell against him, and Albus doubted if the image of its effects would ever leave his mind. Crouch had told Albus that the Ministry would want to reward him and that the magical community would likely deem him a hero. He didn't want that title and he didn't want any reward. The one thing he did want could not be, so it seemed foolish to wish it, though he did anyway.

"They're going to run the story on the evening edition of the 'Prophet'," a familiar voice said. Albus looked up. Elijah Huntington stood in front of him with a newspaper tucked under one arm, a weathered case in one hand, and a cane in the other. He was wearing a rain slicker that dripped intermittently. It had obviously begun to rain outside and Albus had been completely oblivious to it. "Mind if I sit?" Elijah asked.

"Of course, please join me." Albus answered hastily. "Forgive my rudeness, I'm still not myself." He stood, offering to take Elijah's case and newspaper until he got himself situated.

Elijah arranged himself in the chair across from Albus', struggling slightly over his wooden prosthetic and then over where to prop the cane. He finally stuck the latter under the table, and stretched the former out to one side. "It takes some getting used to," Elijah remarked. Albus merely nodded uncomfortably.

"I rather thought you'd be celebrating," Elijah stated after a long and pregnant pause.

"Perhaps I should be," Albus replied. "However, I am unable to find the enthusiasm one needs for such an undertaking."

"Ahh," Elijah responded, shooting a sympathetic look at Albus. "Sometimes, while pursuing evil wizards, great sacrifices are inevitable." He looked at his wooden leg. "They tell us that in auror training, but I don't think I understood the full scope of it before."

Albus didn't know what to say to that. Part of him wanted to scream at Elijah that he would give both his own legs to have Lorelei and their child back. But he also understood that Elijah had not meant that the loss of his leg was equal to the loss of a lover and best friend; merely that both were painful consequences to the fight. Ultimately, Albus said nothing. He just nodded and took a long swig of mead.

"The trap did work, and we were able to ascertain that Hitler colluded with Grindelwald – no mind control. Hitler was apparently a wizard, though not very powerful. He must have had some powerful friends though, able to hide his magic effectively," Elijah explained.

Albus sat back in his chair, stunned. "Do you believe that Grindelwald performed that magic?"

"It's possible," Elijah replied. "Although I think someone would have remembered Hitler from his school days if that were the case. I think perhaps it goes back further than that – or else he simply didn't go to a wizarding school."

"And Minister Starkey?" Albus asked.

"Spelled – though I imagine he will resign anyway. No one will want him holding the head office when he was so easily controlled." Elijah wore a very sour expression as he said it.

"There's nothing easy about it, Elijah, and very few can actually break free of that spell. Don't draw parallels to yourself. It is an unfortunate situation, but it is probably best for Starkey to step down. People like to have their illusions of safety, after all."

Tom approached, delivering food to Elijah this time. He then discreetly moved back behind the bar. Neither Elijah nor Albus spoke at all while he was present.

"You realize that you will probably be asked to take his place," Elijah suggested with a shrewd expression, picking up the thread of the conversation once Tom was at a safe distance.

Albus stared, dumbstruck. "Why me?"

Elijah chuckled slightly. "Only you would ask that, Dumbledore."

"But it's nothing I want. I'm happy where I am – or well, I will be again, someday." He sighed heavily and added, "I should have stayed out of it in the first place. If I had..."

"If you had," Elijah interrupted, "She would still have been killed and he would still be alive and running our world. You certainly tried to back off. Circumstances put you squarely in the middle of things, just as they did Lorelei Figg. He needed her sister and she was honor-bound to stand in the way as much as possible. I admit that I didn't understand everything before, but I do now. Sadly, I doubt history will remember all the players. Someday all they will remember is that Grindelwald was evil and that you defeated him. But some of us will know the rest of the story. I shall never forget."

After that sobering declaration, not much was said. Albus watched Elijah eat, though his own appetite had vanished. He still had to tell Nicholas what had happened, still owed the story to Minerva, Nate and Howard, and still needed to find something to say to Arabella. And then what? There were students to prepare for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, lessons to construct, muggle-borns to contact, and a school to operate. Hagrid was growing fast, but he still needed someone in the role of parent occasionally.

"You never asked me what's in the case," Elijah prompted once he'd finished his lunch. He wiped his face with a napkin, and then his hands, as though polishing himself.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Well then, perhaps you should tell me."

"Something I'd like you to drop in the lake beside Hogwarts. If you could have some of your water friends bury it, I'd be most grateful. You may look inside, but I ask you not to do it here." With that, Elijah struggled to his feet, pulling the cane as an afterthought. "Take care, Albus Dumbledore. I'll see you around, I'm sure." Elijah then paid for his meal and exited the building.

Tom almost immediately approached. "Have you heard? They're saying Grindelwald has been killed! One of the most evil wizards of our times is dead!"

Not wanting to have the inevitable conversation, Albus tried to look surprised. "Is that so?" he remarked. "I imagine it will be in the 'Prophet' soon enough if it's true. Sorry to rush out on you, Tom, but I have somewhere to be." He paid the barkeeper for his lunch, stepped outside and disapparated.

Delivering the news to Arabella that she was now a widow was much easier than expected. The young woman thanked him repeatedly, hugged everyone in the room, and then ran to pack her things.

There were congratulations from Nicholas, Perenelle, Howard and Nate. Minerva pulled Albus aside to make sure he was coping with everything all right and then urged him to return to Hogwarts where he felt at home. "It's probably helpful to stay busy," she added, with a cautious smile.

"I'm sure you are right," he replied. "What will you do now that hiding is no longer necessary?"

"I'm not sure," Minerva answered. "I might work for Gringotts awhile. I'd like to see some far away places. Perhaps I'll first go volunteer with the muggle cleanup forces to see to it that Hitler is no longer a threat. The only thing I'm sure of is that I have family and friends I've not seen in ages, and I'm like Arabella in that I can't wait to get started. I feel like my life was put on hold by that man. Merlin's beard! I'm glad he's dead!"

Albus smiled at her. "If you ever want to pursue a teaching career, I'll put in a good word for you."

"When you're headmaster, I'll definitely consider it," she returned with a saucy grin he'd never seen on her face before.

"Will you keep in touch, either way?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she answered. Very suddenly she hugged him. "Thank you so much, Professor. You've earned my lifelong respect. When I came to you for help, you never questioned my integrity. You found me a place to hide, helped me fight back, and here you are, still looking out for me."

Speechless, he only smiled at her and mumbled his own thanks. When he looked up, Arabella stood before him with a suitcase in her hand and Lolly at her heel. "Arabella, are you really departing so hastily?" he asked.

"I have family who are no longer under his spell. To them, Lorelei's passing will be news, as will Liam's, and I don't want them to face it alone. She wouldn't want that either. I may be a squib, but I'm also a Figg, and they'll need me, whether they like it or not." Her jaw was set in determination.

"May I write to you?" he asked.

"I'll be insulted if you don't," she answered. "But address those letters to Mrs. Arabella Figg, not Grindelwald. If I never see that name again, it will be too soon." She turned back to look at the house elf. "Lolly, I'm going to give my thanks to Perenelle and Nicholas, and then we should depart." She walked briskly toward the sitting room.

Albus turned to Lolly. "Will you watch out for her?" he asked the elf.

"I's gonna' take good care of her, sir," Lolly replied.

"If you need anything, if she needs anything, please contact me," Albus instructed. Lolly nodded.

Within an hour, Nicholas' house had emptied and Albus was saying his own goodbyes. He didn't know when he'd next see Nicholas, but they planned to get together soon. Albus nearly forgot the case Elijah had given him as he started to leave, but Nicholas pointed it out. "You're leaving your parcel."

"Dear me, I'm getting absentminded in my old age," he joked lightly.

Nicholas chuckled. "Tell me that again when you pass 400. To me you're just an upstart."

"Hear! Hear!" Perenelle agreed.

Albus laughed and kissed Perenelle's cheek. "I won't have an excuse to spend every weekend in your company now," Albus told them.

"You've never needed an excuse. Just the drop by any time," Perenelle replied.

"Don't be a stranger," the older man agreed. Albus promised to return again soon, then departed.

Once Albus was back at Hogwarts, he went immediately to the lake to keep his promise. He first knelt at the water's edge and called to the merpeople, using a spell to carry the sound. As he waiting, he decided to open the case, though he thought he knew what was inside. Just as he had suspected, it was the magic lantern. There was a note from Elijah, though it was unnecessary too.

_As long as it exists, others will hunt for it. We don't need another World War._

_-Elijah H._

Albus wholeheartedly agreed, though no one was there to hear him say so. When the chieftess of the merpeople arrived, Albus explained only that the item needed to be placed where no human would find it and that it possessed magic. The merpeople were fearful enough of magic that Albus doubted it would ever turn up again.

Albus walked back toward the school just as the sun was setting. He wasn't sure what the future would bring, but he did know a few things he'd never forget: There was a price for each time good triumphed over evil. There was never a shortage of dark wizards waiting to take their turn at lording over the world. Always, there were people willing to sacrifice everything for what was right, even if it was hard. And that some people were so good and so bright that they burned through their days like shooting stars, and left the world dimmer for their passing. Lorelei had been one of those, and Albus had loved her more than any other person in his life.

* * *

_A/N: A little note on the history that follows:_

_Adolf Hitler committed suicide on April 30, 1945, two days after his friend Mussolini was executed. Allied forces were left to clean up the battle with Japan, despite the fact that some people wonder whether Hitler was actually dead, or if it was one of his many look-alikes. Some say that Hitler moved to South America, while others say that is simply preposterous._


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